


Blood Pact

by spnsmile, TeddyLaCroix



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Cute Jaskier | Dandelion, Everyone Is Gay, Falling In Love, Fights, First Meetings, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jealous Jaskier | Dandelion, Love, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Overprotective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Possessive Sex, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Sweet/Hot, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28373160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnsmile/pseuds/spnsmile, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeddyLaCroix/pseuds/TeddyLaCroix
Summary: Working two jobs at the same time, Jaskier juggles a hefty workload from running a bookstore in the morning to singing in the evening. He doesn't expect the dangerous turn of events following declining another job offer. With a stalker at hand, he really has his hands full. On top of it all, a mysterious silver-haired Hercules appears out of nowhere to save him, claiming he was summoned because of a blood pact on a medallion Jaskier bought from eBay...Christmas Eve just won't give him a break. And what's up with his hot new bodyguard?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 19
Kudos: 191





	1. Of Ornaments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank the GJBB challenge for this fic! It was really a challenge considering the long break from season 1 but we made it through with the help of my co-author/betareader/artist, TeddyLaCroix! This is for helping me out <3 Go check her art, it's fantastic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Blood Pact_ was written by [**spnsmile**](https://spnsmile.tumblr.com) and illustrated by [**TeddyLaCroix**](https://teddylacroix.tumblr.com) for the Geralt/Jaskier Big Bang 2020!

[ ](https://teddylacroix.tumblr.com/)

“What? No! Bookstore’s close tonight,” Jaskier said into the phone tucked between his right shoulder blade and ear. “What—what’s with the snarky tone? That was uncalled for. There’s no sane person who’d want to make a trip to a bookstore on Christmas Eve. And I got a gig with the band in the nightclub.” He slid from the front of his computer to the small counter of his kitchen, shadow trailing after him. He opened the fridge and stared at the contents for a moment, then picked up a bottle of energy drink with his free hand. His forehead slowly creased as he listened on the other line, and by the time he was back in front of his computer, he was frowning.

“Look, I've got my schedule tonight. You can’t deliver the package with the store closed—why are you guys even insisting on Christmas Eve? No, I’m not religious, but I've got a job, idiot. You tell Renfri there’s nothing I can do; I've got a night job, man. No, waiting for your packages in the middle of the night is _not_ a job signed up for. I only did it because you guys wouldn’t leave me alone. If you want that done, wait till the next morning, I’m hanging up, I’ve got stuff to do.”

He slammed his phone down the desk harder than he intended and continued burning his eyes on his computer screen. Istredd— the guy he was just talking to, and he was sure that was a code name or something—was bugging him again to let them drop ten giant boxes on the bookstore’s underground with a promise that it would be picked up before New Year. Jaskier had let them before; it was a favor at first because his grandfather—the bookstore’s late owner—owed Renfri’s men some cash he was still attempting to pay back. Renfri was a fearsome woman whom Jaskier would never want to cross paths with ever again after her short visit informing him of the arrangement. She worked for Mousesack—also someone Jaskier really, really didn’t want to meet again—but something about tonight had him putting his foot down. It was Christmas Eve, and instead of being alone in the three-story building left to him by his grandfather along with hundreds of books, he let the guys in his band schedule a gig. He’d been preparing for it for a week now, even bought a pretty flashy medallion to go with his rockstar attire. He was gonna be unstoppable.

Only to be told to wait for a package? He wasn’t having it. He was going to go out there, sing his life away, and then maybe if he was lucky, get laid by some strong and wild gentleman who’d have him for the night. It was Christmas, after all.

His phone ringing again had him snapping out of his reverie and jumping towards his room for a quick shower and mess up the tangle of his black hair. It was time to shed the goody-two-shoes look of a bookstore keeper to someone not many of his customers would recognize. This was him rocking both worlds.

* * *

It was pandemonium outside of the stage. The crowd hollered and screamed to the beat of the music, bodies moving like puppets on the dance floor, hands up, clapping in enthusiasm. Flickering dance lights and a blue hue set the blurry motion of dancers and party-goers. It was a wild Christmas night.

Backstage, in front of the long mirror, Jaskier styled the fringes of his hair down on the right, above heavily lined eyeliner and thick brows. He wore dark eye contacts to match his black trigger vest and leather ribbed jeans coupled with a flat metal cuff and knuckle-duster leather gloves. Outside, he could hear the crowd going wild with the DJ’s masterful trick and scratch with the crossfader. He found himself humming to the beat, eyes catching the Santa hat on the mirror table. He smirked.

There was a knock at the door. It was Bricks, the band’s drummer with a silver ring pierced on his nose.

“Hey, Dandy, we got five.”

“Yeah, hang on a sec.” Jaskier wiped his hands and gathered all his hair products in one ziplock bag. “Can’t expect a guy to look glamorous in ten minutes—hey, Brickkie—d’you know where my scarf is?”

“I don’t touch those fancy scarves you have.”

“Yeah, just thought… I put it here on top of my bag before rehearsals and now it’s gone. Again.”

Brick shrugged. “You know the rules, every man for himself with their valuables in this place. Blink and your underwear disappears.”

Jaskier chuckled. “Yeah, but losing a piece of my clothes in every club is ridiculous. I’m suing soon.”

Brick laughed and left as Jaskier spent the next two minutes undoing his hair, finally settling on brushing the side up from his ear. He gathered all his makeup in his kit, eyed himself from side to side, and checked out his bum.

Winking at himself, he braced himself when he heard the DJ shout out at the last beat. He gave the next band’s cue so, grabbing his guitar, he dashed out of the room into the narrow hallway where other performers invited to the concert were hanging out. They cheered and called his name and the typical innuendos as Jaskier unzipped his, vest revealing his toned front while running at the call of his band's name again. The Dandelion didn’t come cheap in this part of the city; they were the vocal lords.

Jaskier exchanged fuck yous as he ran, laughing at the other performers, his circle of people in ghetto getups and different shades. Jaskier was never the shy type, he loves the crowd. He loves getting them hyped, getting them to the beat of the music. Singing had been part of him as long as he knows and sharing it to the world was part of his destiny, if not, at least he wanted people to have a good time, help them forget the world even for a second. 

His three bandmates had finished setting up their instruments on the stage when he joined them. The flickering lights of the stage was blinding, an ocean of shapes of people with bouncing bodies waiting for the music to kick.

Jaskier took the mic, flashing a smile and winking at the crowd he knew so well. His bandmate nodded in his direction and they began with the beating of drums. Jaskier stood in front and with the flash of light, glanced up with a dramatic breathy voice

 _“Who’s ready to receive Santa’s dirty gift?”_ the drum rolled.

The crowd went wild. The bass resounded and Jaskier shrieks a high note before breaking into a mash of _Jingle Bell rocks_ and _Roc Ya Body._ The lights went wild and shadows of clapping audience and beating of feet filled the air. He timed his movements with every beat, microphone loud enough to go with the tidal wave of screams and laughter. Bodies swayed to the beat and music, a kind of energy possessed each body moving in waves and ecstasy. Jaskier pulled the guns on the high notes, microphone twirled like a baton in his hand with his own electric guitar adding to the tumult till his body was trembling with excitement.

They followed it with the band’s original songs. Soaking wet from perspiration, he didn’t feel till the last note hits, Jaskier took a lungful of air and finished with a big breaking of the piano in the background and thunderous applause. It was a peak of adrenaline he will live in his last breath.

Getting off the stage, Jaskier clapped hands and beams from backstage. He could feel his cold back sticky from sweat. His throat was raw from the performance, but it all pays off as the crowd applauded and shouted his band’s name. Jaskier basked in the ovation, the limelight his life. He brushed shoulders with the next performers still grinning when someone pulled him back from the waist. He found lips crushing on his own and he moaned recognizing the handsome DJ of the nightclub.

“Hey, sexy,” Travis smelt like a cigarette when he leaned forward more. “You were hot out there,”

Jaskier smiled into the kiss, “You were drooling?”

He got pulled closer, bodies flushed. Travis licked his neck without preamble, making Jaskier squirm. He was still exhausted from the concert and he was really sweaty—it gave him the chills, crotch twitching in interest.

“You know you could always invite me somewhere more romantic—private?” he half-joked but wished Travis got the point.

“I can ravish you right here.” Nosing on Jaskier’s neck, his guy pulled back and touched his medallion.

“Nice urban plate—antique? Looks exquisite. Fits you, babe.” Travis tried to snatch his necklace, but Jaskier swatted his palm away.

“Yes, it’s hippie and cool. I got it on eBay for an arm and leg so get off or I’ll bite.”

Travis leaned down to catch his bottom lips. Jaskier moaned. He loves kissing. He loves the feel of someone’s body pressing to him, mouth tasting his lips in hunger. He’s young and gets addicted to physical intimacy the moment he figured he’s wanted. That’s all he ever wanted. He longed for the feel of human contact so much he can’t help getting turned on easily and Travis knows that, grinding their hips together it was filthy the sound Jaskier made and wished they were really somewhere private.

Hissing at his own self-dignity, he pushed from his friend and holds a palm on his neck, looking Travis in the eyes.

“Dune’s moved to California with his girlfriend, I got the bookstore all to myself now. I don’t mind another close friend moving in?”

Travis’ eyes flickered and he smirked e, “Are you asking me to settle down?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, “You settle down? No ropes could contain you.”

“Oh, we’re talking kinky,” he slid arms around Jaskier’s waist who let their hips roll, aware of cast eyes squinting in their direction. As much as Jaskier approves of PDA, there were times his mood changes and it’s one of those times.

“Look, Dune left a nice spot, and you said so yourself you’d love to live there. That building is huge for one of me. And so many books to sort alphabetically...” at the DJ’s raised brows he added, “I’m kidding. You take it or not? I could always have it rented by college students.”

Travis smiled. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be hot?”

“I’m already a bookstore keeper for fuck’s sake, you think I don’t get enough of them? I prefer not to get mixed up with any schoolers. So, what do you think?”

“You still use the underground for the old books? I keep telling you let’s turn that basement into the bar. A bookstore and bar will get you all the bucks you need to pay your debt to those thugs.”

“ _My grandfather’s debt—” Jaskier_ corrected, mind wandering back to the underground. Debt caused his grandfather to pawn the bookshop to some hoodlum in the past who all appeared before Jaskier when his grandfather died. They demanded to be paid, at the same time make a few demands regarding the underground archives. It was a basement with a doorway leading to a stone stair outside found at the back of the actual bookstore. Jaskier was aware of how it’d be a perfect spot for a private bar, let alone shady people to meet. He sighed. Travis clicked his tongue.

“C’mon, we can make our own club with that hot spot alone but the last time I propose to get rid of those old books, you got so mad we dropped it.”

“It’s a bookstore building, what do you want me to do? Besides, my dead grandpa would murder me in my sleep if I throw his precious books. In his death bed, he seemed to think he left something important in the haystack of those books. I just can’t get rid of all of them.” He watched as Travis’s lips curl downwards and moved away from him.

“Hard bargain, that place’s too tidy for me, babe. But if you really want to dirty up, I’m open to suggestions.” He stepped back to his face but Jaskier pokes his cheek with a finger and pushed him back. Jaskier smiled. Travis can be charming when he needed to be, and _when he really needed one._ Who was Jaskier to deny him? He liked the sexy bastard anyway.

“Now you’re talking, but that was a lame foreplay.”

Travis’ hand playfully pinched his left bottom cheek, “You want a different dirt, that’s why.”

“But you still won’t get a room for us in a fancy hotel?”

“I got a place, you got yours, let’s just choose. So, are we crashing in now?” he smiled toothily, “I’ll get you covered this Christmas.”

Jaskier smiles, “I’ll just wash my face,”

“You look pretty, you don’t have to, come on, I’m hard.”

“I know, but I’m very vain and I take care of my skin so layoff—and cool off outside,”

“Yours, baby,” Travis blew him a kiss as Jaskier ran back to the back room to grab his stuff. Kapa, Maleck and Bricks were still there, sucking on energy drinks while they rest. He found them laughing about a joke he wished wasn’t about him. It’s a rule in the book they talk about someone behind his back. Jaskier hurries to his bag and begins picking up his stuff. 

“Got work tomorrow?” Bricks asked, sitting on the floor.

“He’s a librarian, of course, he got work tomorrow,” Kapa said yawning with bass at hand. A very visible man with orange hair with black streaks on the side, “We got booked at the Park Avenue club on Friday,” Already said we’d go.”

“That’s five days, why is it always Friday,” Jaskier chuckled, pulling his towel from inside his bag and wiping the smudged of lipstick on his lips. 

“I need coffee,” Maleck, the youngest of the group and recently graduated from college Jaskier meets in the school. Kapa turns to him in wonder.

“You work in a coffee shop, go snag all the coffee you can. You open in like, six hours?”

“Only part-time. If you’re gonna bully someone, go for Jaskier.

“Time for you lot to go home,” Jaskier whisks cologne all over his body, earning smirks from his bandmate.

“Yeah, I remember you said Dune’s moving out this weekend?”

“Yesterday.” He saw the trio grin at each other so he sneered, “Come on, say it.”

“Ah, Dandy’s taking someone home the first time your straight mate’s out of the loop?”

“He always takes Travis home, idiot.”

“Point: Travis was only ever there once and never again,”

“That’s what they say about people with looks. They can’t stand books.” Laughed

“Shut up,” Jaskier’s bandmate knew how easy he falls, especially his long-lived-crush to this hot blonde guy that happened to be the straightest guy in town, his roommate, Dune. Jaskier’s gotten over him when Dune proposed to his girlfriend and planned to get married the next year. He cried the poetry of his broken heart in his song and that’s all there was, but he did miss the sunshine of his life. Dune was the best guy and Travis could not even hold a candle to him.

“Yeah take care tonight, we’re still gonna drink together, you know, like what real bandmates do, but yeah go celebrate with your man. _Make sure you know what’ll hit you_!” said Brick in a sing-song voice.

“Fuck off, we always celebrate midnight separately!”

“That’s because you always get distracted, Jask.”

“Don’t be late!”

“Bye, Dandy.”

He shouldered his bag and waved before stepping out of the room. The way out was not easy, he got stopped along by some friends and musicians alike who’re all friends with him. Everyone who knows everyone in the circle knows Jaskier and he knows them in turn. The passage is narrow, legs and bodies along the way, he thanked the club owner and bumps fist with the friendly bouncers who despite all looking like bears, are yeah fluff bears once you get to know them.

Overall, Jaskier liked this family. He chose this over his past and he’s not regretting it one bit.

He got out to the parking lot, eyes scanning around. Plenty of people from the club are still hanging out, smoking, making out, doing stuff that are none of Jaskier’s business. He moves around people, smiling and waving a hand at people he knows and didn't knows, wondering what on earth happened to his ride. Jaskier has a car, a classic Volkswagen, but it’s strictly for school premises use. It’s never gone over this funky part of the city in fear that he’d get recognized. Luckily his flashy looks really cover up his tedious but cute librarian look. And Jaskier’s mighty proud of that. He likes being a librarian with the cool earpiece the students talk about.

It’s living in both worlds.

Until his eyes fell on Travis and found him kissing a girl inside his car. Jaskier sighs in exasperation. Walking to the driver’s door, he raps his fingers on the window glass with leveled eyes. Travis is again, sucking on the girl’s lips when he was just kissing Jaskier not ten minutes ago. Jaskier shook his head. They were not official, but we'd appreciate it if Travis would stop sucking the soul out of everybody when he promised to fuck his brains out.

He weighed his steps as he approached them and decided there was really no hard feelings whatsoever. Great, he got a fuck body. He wondered how long he’s been denying that.

“Babe, you won’t believe this.” Travis pulled back and grinned at him.

“Surprise me.” Jaskier didn’t look at the lady companion. “Aren’t we going yet or have you changed your mind?”

“Change my mind, yeah right. We’re still a go, babe.”

Jaskier let that sink in. “Uh… what about our pretty lady friend?”

“Hey, cutie,” She winked. Jaskier forced a smile back, eyeing Travis again who drank his glass of wine and made a smacking sound with his lips.

“There’s always room for three, isn’t there?”

Jaskier blinked dumbly. Of course, he knew what was happening.

“What? You want to have a small party of three?”

“Can’t be picky, babe. He’s paying for the room.”

Jaskier threw him an incredulous look bluntly asking if he’s gone insane. He wasn’t sure if Travis chose to ignore him or was dead set on having another hand on his ass. Jaskier licked his lips as he listened to the DJ.

“Something like that. Come on, let’s get the sheet of a queen size bed dirty with three.” Travis’s eyes twinkled. She cooed when he beckoned her to his arms. She gave Jaskier a once-over with amusement in her brown eyes then winked as she bit her bottom lip seductively.

Oh. she’s gonna make him beg and bottom, he was certain. But instead of getting turned on, Jaskier felt a rock drop down his stomach nervously. He usually has a good read on people and this one here has no mercy. A true dominatrix he was sure Travis would enjoy.

“Babe?” Travis called him halfway to his car.

Clutching the strap of his bag, Jaskier forced another smile.

“There’s plenty of room, in my building if you don’t want to bother paying, but not for her, no offense.” He blew a kiss in her direction, wiping the easy smile on her lips. He expected Travis to take a hint, only to find him gaping back.

Jaskier frowned, “What?”

“Oh, you’re serious?”

Jaskier let a beat, then pointed, “You start by letting go of her waist,”

Travis pulled away but he was still giving Jaskier that ridiculous look he didn’t like one bit.

“You know I don’t do share on the bed,”

“You’ve done plenty of stuff with me, what makes having another mouth-sucker on your other end?”

Jaskier pushed past him when Travis ogled at him like he was insane. He turned his heel and didn’t look back. He could hear Travis calling him back but Jaskier doesn’t look back. He’s someone who knows when he’s a better way without other people—the reason why he left behind his family in the first place.

Wanting to put some distance between him and his crude friend, Jaskier walked the dark streets furiously. Cars went past with their blinking lights, some making him jump when they honked to get his attention because he was popular around these parts too. And just because he doesn’t want Travis to catch up to him while walking on his own, he chose the alleyway, leaving all the noise and life of music behind.

Jaskier liked sex, like a lot, but he was not one for sharing. He’s heard plenty of groups and threesomes but that’s not really his thing. He wasn’t exactly an old romantic fool, but there’s something about

It only occurred to him that he’s walking at the back of buildings in an urban area, in the middle of the dark. It also occurred to him that there’s an echo to his steps and that creepy feeling of someone watching his back.

He stopped just to make sure. He heard a step halting a late after him and Jaskier’s heart thundered. Who was out there? Was he gonna get mugged? Or worse…

Gripping his bag and guitar tight, he thinks of giving up his wallet just not the guitar. It’s unnerving how a single step makes his heart explode, how his throat dry and his ears to ring in nothing but silence. He gets hypersensitive with the footsteps behind him as he takes a slow step forward first, then hurries before he breaks into a run.

The person behind him runs too.

_Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_

Adrenaline rushing in, Jaskier musters all strength to maneuver his body and skids to another alley but it’s useless. There’s only the sound of their footsteps in the winding darkness, the sound like bells calling for the cat to pounce. He can’t remember having that many tall bricked buildings and trash cans in the city—and smoke, too much pollution—where the hell was this?

There’s a quick flash of something dark with a wagging tail crossing his path— the world comes crashing down and Jaskier groaned when his chin hits the ground. For a second, he was robbed of breath, his chest flat on the ground. He tastes blood on his lips and he curses. The pain he’ll have to endure during rehearsals and jams?

_Shit—_

He froze. He could feel the presence forcing itself in his attention. He turned back sharply to see a man looming before him, face hidden in the shadows—a guy with a brown leather jacket, ripped jeans, black shirt, short hair—a killer?

Then his eyes fall on the man’s hand where he sees a familiar scarf. Jaskier’s blood turns cold. He slowly meets the man’s eyes. He knows they existed, he just never realized he has one. All those times his personal belongings disappear, he thought people with itchy hands take them, and Jaskier’s generous, but this is one thing he never imagined.

Oh, fuck. Who else would follow him around and attack at the first opportunity carrying a missing item from his bag?

A stalker.

Jaskier felt his blood drip from his chin down his chest. His breathing raced when they drew near, shadow threatening. Was it a stalker mad enough to kill him? Or worse… he didn’t want to think of things worse than his current predicament so pushing himself with his elbow and slowly crawling backward, he breathed out his fear.

“H-hey, man, whatever it is you want, I—I don’t have it, okay? I’m just a poor musician—”

A threatening step. Jaskier shook his head and felt his blood ooze down his chin from his lips. He can’t look away from the hungry, predatory look—Jaskier’s seen that look before and damn it, he’s not going to let it happen—not here—not— _Christ—he needed help._

No sooner had the words left his thoughts, there’s a burning feeling somewhere around his collarbone. Gasping in pain, he snatched the chained necklace and raised the medallion— was it him? Because something weird like electricity was emitting from the object?

Something prods at the sole of his shoes. Jaskier snapped in attention, flatting the medallion down the ground because his stalker had finally succeeded in reaching him. Long, the claw-like hand began to reach down to him, dark eyes glinting with lust and Jaskier knew there’s no escape unless he smashed his guitar on the man’s head— _fuck!_ There’s no way he was going to do that. He can always scream but after that concert in the club—he’ll be lucky if he can produce any sound that won’t make the madman attack him.

He looked around for anything to use as a weapon and found none. The hand closed in and Jaskier shielded himself from it, shutting his eyes with noise disappearing altogether because fuck—this was not happening! Such a tragedy for someone like him just because he’s so attractive—

A few heartbeats next and were as he was expecting to be pulled on his feet, nothing happened. What was taking the attack long? Jaskier grimaced at the thought that he was mentally bracing himself from the physical pain when he could’ve been thinking of a way to escape.

Still, nothing happened. Jaskier paused. He really didn’t want to open his eyes in fear of seeing the expression on the man’s face which was the last thing he wanted to see if he was going to die here. A braver, more reasonable side of his brain nudged him to act so he opened his eyes slowly.

Holy fuck what he saw from his position.

There’s another person—another man much broader and grimmer in appearance, holding the wrist of the stalker in the air. Jaskier doesn’t breathe—somehow, out of the blue, there’s a guy who stopped his assaulter. He had no idea who he was, all Jaskier can see was the guy’s long silvery-white hair with few locks tied the rest behind him in a neat knot. And he’s wearing the darkest trousers and black shirt and on his other hand, he holds what seems to be a badass five-inch blade—

A cosplayer?

Jaskier would’ve worried for him, truly, if he wasn’t such a bodybuilder, he sure liked to thank the guy. Until Mr. Bodybuilder flipped the man’s arm and threw him on the trash bin like it was nothing. Jaskier’s eyes bulged as the said man turned to him next, golden eyes glowing in the shadow.

Jaskier knew he was going to die next.

He sat up quickly, not even daring to blink. If he was going to die here, he was going to die knowing his murderer. Funny how quickly his perspective changed. Except for no matter how much he forced himself to think this guy oozing the aura of a convict would actually harm him the way, he didn’t even spook Jaskier. Even completely forgot he existed for a second when the man lifted his chin up without blinking his sharp gaze. His jawline could be razor to anyone who comes near it. Jaskier suddenly thought he didn’t mind getting cut.

Until the man growled.

“Where the fuck is this?”

His voice deep and reverberating gave Jaskier the chills.

“In the city, where else?” he croaked in an attempt to answer as he slowly stood up. The guy pierced him with another look, going from a hard stare to a quizzical and then dawning comprehension as he broke eye contact and stared at something on the floor.

Jaskier followed where his eyes were staring and saw the medallion. He hastily picked it up.

“You summoned me.”

Jaskier dusted the medallion then looked up from the object, wondering if the guy was talking to him. As if his gaze could penetrate a wall.

“M-me?” without a response, Jaskier shook his head. “N-no. I didn’t have my phone with me I…”

“Faun? You do not look like you breed animals.” The man’s brows furrowed. Jaskier wished there was clearer light in the alley than the broken flickering lamp outside the street.

“Are you stoned?” Jaskier asked before he could help himself except the guy looked blank, only that perpetual grim look on his face. And just because Jaskier feared the guy would disappear on him like how those superheroes come in and out of the picture to save the day, he added—“Anyway, it was really great of you to help me, and if you don’t mind me asking so I can thank you properly later, who are you and from which part of the world will I send my thank you later?”

“I am Geralt of Rivia,” said the handsome fucker with the poise of a soldier, closing the gap between them for some reason. “And you freed me from a curse. I may have to kill you later if it meant becoming your slave, so choose your words right.”

Jaskier had never believed truer words. He also had never seen someone so charismatic and dangerous up-close.


	2. Of Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Supernatural elements make an entrance

Jaskier found the name funny. 

“Geralt of Rivia,”

“Geralt? Of… of Rive… that’s okay… I’m Jaskier of doom…. Are we exchanging a screen name?”

He received an icy stare. He could not find any reason for it. He was still numb from thr attack and the sudden appearance of his unknown hero. His heart was still up his throat, he was still in disbelief with what nearly happened especially he knew attacks his way was possible given the circumstances of his life. Someone like hin who had been bullied many times, threatened even.... 

“Clean your bloody lips…"

Jaskier wiped his mouth and spat on the floor.

“Damnit, and I have a gig next week. I’m gonna get called fat lips for this.” He was expecting too much for a smile from his new companion. Jaskier blinked. The guy had a stare of someone people would find uncomfortable, and yet for Jaskier he was a light to cling on. He foeced himself to chuckle. 

“No humor, I see…but Rivia? That is odd—a foreign surname? I’m Jaskier. See? I’m hardly the right guy to judge your parent’s choice of name. Mine were ridiculous who disowned me after I came out—anyway, sidetracking— thank you for helping me, Geralt Rivia, um… I don’t know how to repay you in kind—”

"You're rambling," Geralt didnt seem happy with him as minute passed.

"I uh, well, you do realized I've just been attacked? And you just popped out of nowhere, where did you even run from? 

“What the fuck are you talking about? Where the hell is this?”

Jaskier licked his lips. The man was daunting every second and they were still in the alleyway, anything could still happen, except the stranger had begun sniffing the air.

“Where the fuck am I? I don’t recognize this place; this isn’t where I am from.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know where you are from um… a theater? Wait—did you just say ‘Geralt of Rivia or is your name pronounced in one go. Because if that’s it—I can’t—"

They heard a moan from the trash container and Jaskier immediately grabbed his belongings. His savior barely flinched. There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes like he was planning to end someone and Jaskier did not doubt it. Something about this man’s voice was scaring him to some extent, yet out of instincts, he grabbed the stranger’s arm and dragged him out of the alley into the light of the street, immediately hailed a cab and was out of there in no time.

All those whiles, this Geralt barely spoke a word. He was someone strange and dangerous. Yet he brought his future murderer back into his household.

He didn’t know what prompted him to do it. In hindsight, his first sign should’ve been the man’s getup, but those clothes were typical, what wasn’t was the one who wore it. The guy had some foreign blood with a Polish name (sounds like Polish or was it Russian?), but the way the guy looked so confused with his surroundings, not to mention his firm resolve in not telling Jaskier a different name, not to mention how Geralt watched the medallion like a hawk made Jaskier wonder for his intentions.

Yet he brought him home…

“I’m so dead.” He told himself as he closed the door when Geralt brushed past him into the spacious second floor of the building.

It was a little disconcerting to see the stranger stand in the middle of the room looking so out of place. Jaskier moved and unhooked his guitar from his body. At the back of his mind, he kept repeating it was insane—but did it top the stalker coming after him? He leaned his guitar on the wall and then faced his visitor.

“You’re really rocking the gaming suit.”

Geralt took a moment to sniff the air, wrinkling his nose before casting him a glare. Jaskier figured that’s how the man actually stared at people. It was factory-reset.

“What is this place?” he grumbled so low and with disdain, “A place for fairies?”

They both look at the rainbow tapestry with glittering blue butterflies. The judgment on his face was palpable.

“It’s my place— I’m allowed to do whatever I want in here—and before you get any ideas, I only invited you because you looked like you don’t know where you were—and I might’ve taken a fugitive home, but at this point, I don’t even know who saved who—"

“Mmmm.” Geralt grunted. It was distracting.

“I’m sorry, where’d you come from again? Hello, excuse me—”

Geralt stopped like a brick wall and then slowly turned back to him. “I am from the Continent.”

“Okay,” Jaskier licked his lips, “Which Continent?”

The look Geralt gave him was offensive. “Okay, I think I’ll guess about that, but it means you stay someplace, right?”

“I was summoned.”

“Yes, uh about that, you mean the crap of me calling you?” Jaskier laughed, “Where’d you get that story—look, if you just came around to help, I won’t judge—"

“You summoned me, I did not come here on my own accord.”

That hit a nerve. Jaskier suppressed his annoyance and chuckled. “Yes, summoning, I don’t have… that’s farfetched as far as I can tell. I couldn’t possibly summon—"

“You did.” Geralt repeated grimly, then pointed at something in Jaskier’s hand. “It’s hard to bargain to believe. I understand this world… is for mortals alone. Where I come from… things exist… and this place does not reek of any magical residues, except for my medallion.”

“This is yours?” Jaskier had so many other questions but this information got his attention.

“Yes.” Geralt won’t drop his hard gaze. Jaskier nodded slowly.

“Do you want it back?”

“It was mine to begin with.”

“Right,” Jaskier held on to the ornament, “What are you some kind of genie-stuck-in-the -amp—medallion kind of thing? Stop pulling my leg, I’m not an idiot.”

Geralt tilted his head in mock disbelief that looked so arrogant and offensive. Jaskier opened his mouth at the silent insult and pointed at his savior.

“You’re at my _house_! Why are you so—rude?” damn it, he promised himself he’d look at least cool in the man’s eyes who reeked of too much manliness that was drowning Jaskier but the smug look on Geralt’s face—the slight curl of his lips in amusement, the way he cast his eyes toward Jaskier—it was all telling of something unseen, something beneath the layer of the thick-skinned man.

A liar. Jaskier was used to people lying to him. He's lied many times in his life to survive, knew it was a tactical move yet there was no reason for someone like this mighty guy to make up stories. 

His thoughts must've shown on his face because the next thing he knew, Geralt was glaring at him.

Those sharp eyes that never ceases to create turbulence in his stomach which was a bad sign.

“You think I’m lying?”

"You need to listen to yourself, man..."

"Meaning?"

"Of course I think you're lying! Have you heard how farfetched you sound just now!"

"I don't lie. What merits will it do me over someone like you?"

"What...?"Jaskier opened his mouth, gutted. Never mind how it was unnerving the way he said it, the tranquility and confidence that was unhinging Jaskier but to actually spit the truth of the situation?

He was starting to like him and hate him at the same time.

The man looked like he was not kidding like he believed what he was saying. What is happening? Was he drunk after the concert? Was he imagining things?

“I… I need a drink…” he gulped; throat dry. His head was aching and there’s a dull ache around his hips where he landed when he tripped over the dog or cat that crossed his path. Geralt remained an enigma the way his eyes wandered around the vicinity. Jaskier was torn between asking him to step out or get him coffee and be done with hospitality.

“Will you quit glaring at the couch and just sit down?"

The man actually had the gal to wrinkle his nose. Jaskier followed where he was frowning and saw the brown couch with a fluffy red cover. The last thing he need was a man—a very manly man—to judge his color choices. Not with silver hair like that. How does this man keep his hair so shiny anyway?

“Do you want coffee…?” he said, not recalling if he asked already.

Geralt ignored him.

“Okay, black coffee it is,” Jaskier gritted his teeth, “No need to make it extra hot and bitter, I guess. You’re one whole package Mr. Rivia.”

He rounded on the kitchen and took his time. The coffee pot was empty so Jaskier opened the fridge for the soda cans and beers. When he returned, the man was already standing at the glass door leading to a small veranda. It was dark outside, and yet Geralt seemed fascinated by something only he could see.

Upon sensing Jaskier’s return, Geralt came back to the living room and sat on the couch without another word. Thank god something normal.

“Water and beer.”

Jaskier actually didn’t want to offer too much alcohol in case the stranger would take it he was allowed to stay longer than necessary. Though there was extra space, the three-story building was large enough to have two bedrooms on the top floor and living room in the middle and a bookshop directly beneath it, then the underground. It was a building a lot of business tycoons envied for its prime location found at the center of the city, and which Jaskier had been working two jobs at once to keep from having the place ransacked by banks and loan sharks.

Jaskier grimaced. Why was he thinking of bedrooms of all things? Geralt took the can of beer and turned it upside down for inspection.

“I’m not going to poison you.” Jaskier rolled his eyes, making himself comfortable on the adjacent chair. Geralt didn’t even lookup.

“You don’t look like you could harm a fly.”

Jaskier sighed and pressed the bridge of his nose. He was tired and his body hurt from falling and his hero whom he had the grace to invite in his abode after the cab dropped them there had been irking him since he opened his mouth. A very beautiful mouth.

Jaskier snapped out of the dangerous thoughts and saw Geralt staring at the can with undivided attention. Jaskier watched him and made faces as the stranger traced the cylindrical object.

“So… you’re foreign? Not foreign enough to recognize a can of beer, right? Are you checking the sugar content?”

“It’s rum.”

“It’s something you can drink. Coffee’s out of options.” When it was followed by another grunt, Jaskier clapped his hands on his knees. “So Geralt, are you on a trip abroad or something? You don’t… you don’t look like from somewhere here.”

“I’m not from here,” Geralt carefully set the can on the table. He sniffed in the air again and Jaskier wondered if he was judging his eau de cologne. He was going to have a fit if he did.

“Then where are you from?”

“Not here.”

"Oh, Neverland then?" That was a stupid thing to say, but this man was no fun. Jaskier could Gealt was of Celtic background or family from the distant lineage of knights or the likes. He was giving off that scary, aloof vibe of someone who could raise a sword, handle a sword even. Jaskier cleared his throat and tried again.

“Well, sorry for prying, but really, thank you for saving me.”

“It’s not like I have a choice.” Geralt said with words too clear that had Jaskier blinking.

“Y-yeah, right. It’s… it’s what good Samaritans do, huh?” he faked a smile.

“I don’t know what you mean, but I already told you, you summoned me from my prison. You are not obliged to thank me further. I stayed because you have something that I own.”

Jaskier’s face fell. _Prison?_ He was really a fugitive?! Did he just invite a potential killer—and he prided himself on reading people. Christmas was really something.

“Ahh… summoned you… that’s pretty profound, we hardly know each other, stop kidding around haha.”

“The medallion is a medium as well as a container. A witch imprisoned me there.”

Jaskier’s lips twitched. He must’ve hit his head really bad to be hearing things.

“Y- you mean this medallion?” Jaskier held the string and let the heavy locket-like head of a wolf swing like a pendulum. Geralt transfixed his stare on it. Jaskier drew it near the silver-haired man who raised his hand to take it—

“Yes. It’s mine. Give it to me.”

“I bought it on E-bay, this can’t be anything special.” He pulled the necklace back, observing how Geralt sat still as a stone with glinting dark eyes.

“Humans don’t have the same things to value, if they did there wouldn’t be war.”

Jaskier stared. Geralt’s eyes were too intense and grave to avoid. “Well, if you really valued this, how come I found it on E-bay?”

“If I find the witch who cursed me, I will be sure to ask. But I won’t promise anything, if I let her breath a word I might find myself transformed.”

Jaskier made a face. He gave Geralt a long look, didn’t find him joking and was even more confused.

“You seriously think I’ll believe that.”

Geralt looked away and this irritated Jaskier more. Here he was expecting to have a wonderful chat with his savior and promise meetings in the future, possibly make connections because it’s bound to happen between rescuer and rescuee— but expectations really were hard manipulators when he was given a cynical, grumpy man—why did he have to be so attractive? But…what?

“I can’t believe you save me just so you can have this necklace, how long have you been following me around?”

“What?”

“You’re probably one of my fans and you just fancy to have something I have as a memento. Damn, I can’t believe I nearly fell for it. If you wanted to take this from me, you could’ve asked nicely and not weave some ridiculous story—"

“It’s not my concern if you believe me or not, but I am not a thief.” Geralt growled.

“Really? But you want the medallion, right? Stop spinning fairy tales, I’m tired.” Jaskier threw the necklace on the table, “Take it if you want it so bad, you did save my life. I think that’s all we need to talk about, right? Or do you want to tell me a bedtime story?”

Geralt was silent but his eyes bore hard on Jaskier. They were sharp and intense, but Jaskier was done with him.

“Take it and do whatever you want.”

“You still think I’m lying?”

Their gazes clashed. Jaskier was the first one to pull. Rolling his eyes, he stood up from the couch, “You just want the medallion, right? Geez, take it. Stop intimidating me with the fugitive story and witches and wizards, just take it back to your circus. You don’t know how many blackmails I’ve got since owning this shop—I can handle some truth, you know, like if you don't like the fragrant smell of my place, that's on you. Finish your drink and go back where you came from. The door’s open and just go home—"

“I’m not from here.” Geralt said and that’s that.

Jaskier blinked several times and couldn’t answer that. “Well, do what you like.”

He did what he does best upon decision making and made a run for it. He slipped out of the living room and shut the third-floor room to protect himself. The guy can leave any time he wants, there was nothing that important in the living room, and if the man wanted the medallion, he can go crazy on it. He took a shower, got on his clothes and was already halfway dreaming when he remembered his expensive guitar in the living room. If the man was indeed a fan or something like that, the chances of his guitar getting stolen were high.

Bouncing down the steps to the living room in his large clothes, he turned on the lights. He breathed a sigh of relief to find the guitar still there and Geralt was gone. Jaskier nodded. Maybe the guy was a dream after all? Yet there on the table was the untouched can of beer.

Jaskier paused. The medallion was still there but no Geralt.

It was already six on Christmas morning. Snow-covered the window and Jaskier blew smog into the cold room. He wondered if Geralt…why must he concern himself with that circus guy? He better get the heater working—

There was a splash of water.

Jaskier froze with his head turning to the bathroom of the living room. He held his breath. Someone else was there—is it possible—? He hurried to the bathroom, gave the half-closed door a shove to find that there, in the middle of the bathtub was a very naked Geralt Rivia. He seemed to be having the time of his life, broad shoulders sparkled under the dim light, his muscles taut and full. His legs were spread-eagled on either side of the tub, soaking his weary bones in the cold water. Jaskier couldn’t find it in him to ask, he was gone at the sight. Geralt’s long hair was down, bare chest thick with hair, he was breathtaking to be held.

Then Geralt raised his eyes to him.

Jaskier felt his cheeks burning hot, spreading from his chest to the top of his head. Geralt barely fit in the bathtub that looked like a kid-size in his frame. His thick legs that could carry ten Jaskiers were sending Jaskier places. Of all the gifts this Christmas, Jaskier wondered if he ever did anything so good to deserve such a sight. Geralt watched him with a tilt of the head and then slowly stood up. Jaskier leaned on the door with his knees giving away, not only because of the complete nudity—but also the numerous scars marring his skin and if Jaskier was asked, he was sure most of those were not made by humans.

Just what…?

* * *

Jaskier pulled on his scarf over thick wool clothes and threw Geralt Rivia a look of disdain. He could not get the mental picture out of his head. He had a full view of Geralt Rivia and he would be lying if he said he didn’t like what he saw. He stood there, ogling shamelessly for full minutes before Geralt told him the water was cold if he was going to take a shower. This snapped him out of reverie and had him bolting out of the bathroom. They spent the next minutes with Jaskier being awkward, but another side of him wanted to ask about the scars. Clearly, Geralt was strange. He found the man on his full clothes again and waiting quietly on the couch. “Where are you going?”

“Merry Christmas to you too… though I doubt you believe in any jesus with a junk like that.”

Geralt narrowed his eyes. Jaskier looked away, cheeks heating up at the memory.

“I’m going to get the shop ready later I just need to buy us some coffee… we’ll talk about this—being a freeloader or something when I return—that is if you plan for a prolonged stay—”

“I can’t go anywhere.” Geralt said mysteriously. Jaskier added that to his list of questions.

“Right, well stay here while I go grab us some food. I have an errand to do.” he didn’t wait for any answer. Jaskier’s head was still dulled by the heart-racing encounter. He stepped out the white street, inhaling the cool breeze before coughing aloud and turning to the door of the shop.

He grimaced at the frozen windows and lock of the shop. Tucking his hands deep inside his coat, he moved to the street. The coffee shop was a block away across the street. People brushed shoulders with him as he made up his mind of what to order, he’s uncertain if Geralt would be satisfied with sandwiches alone. He should buy meat just in case. The green light turned to red for the cars. Jaskier thought it was the first time he had company during Christmas—someone who didn’t leave at the first strike of dawn was actually heartwarming. Not to mention, it was with a guy he hadn’t slept with too.

He imagined what sort of morning it would be if Travis was there to crash it. Then again, he wouldn’t be in this predicament if Travis had stayed with him that night. He wouldn’t have been chased by a stalker, nor was there a need to summon a magical genie guy—

Jaskier stopped dead in his tracks and grimaced. The traffic lights turned red on his side.

“Am an idiot—do I honestly think he was from the medallion—!?”

_“HEY—WATCH OUT!”_

Jaskier snapped his attention on the street and saw a pregnant woman just there in the middle of the pedestrian where the green lights—

His body moved on its own accord and he was there too— flashes of light from his left followed by a deafening blast of horn and screech of tires. He wrapped his body around the woman and covered her with his own, all the while wondering if the stars hated him this Christmas as his life flashed before his eyes and an earsplitting collision—but all that mattered was he got the woman in his arms. His husband would surely cry…

He wondered if anyone would cry for him.

The world broke apart with a crash.

Jaskier shut his eyes. They said heaven had no pain in it. He had none. Does that mean he was in heaven?

“What the fuck are you doing?” said a deep, icy voice.

Jaskier breathed and opened his eyes. Around him the world continued to move, people running around and shouting while the pregnant woman passed out on his arms— her husband on his wife’s side, taking her from Jaskier who wouldn’t let go. Large, calloused hands landed on top of his and ordered him to let go. Jaskier did. The husband cradled his wife and shouted for anyone to help him bring her to the closest hospital. People responded. Jaskier couldn’t move. He was still alive. His heart was still racing like mad and he was stuck on something—or someone. Then it hit him—the warm breath behind him, the strong arms around his arms, the touch of the man who saved him again.

Jaskier couldn’t make heads nor tails until he saw fragments of glass windows a large truck meters away from them with its front broken from a strong collision. The windshield was broken, the bumper dented like it hit a large boulder of rock. Geralt standing between him and the track with features grim.

“Jaskier.” He rasped, more of a hiss of annoyance.

Jaskier was lost for words. People were shouting around, ambulance to be called, traffic to hold and still he said no words. Geralt grunted when he stood up, but when he lifted Jaskier to his arms, a lot of people gasped. Jaskier couldn’t still comprehend but his grip on Geralt’s shoulder was tight as his mysterious hero saved his life again, this time, from certain death.


	3. Of Guardians

_“A car accident occurred in the middle of the metropolitan involving a truck, a pregnant woman and what appeared to be an invisible wall.”_

_“There was a young man with her—he saved her and then I don’t remember, I closed my eyes—” said an eyewitness interviewed on the screen._

That was the news that greeted Jaskier the moment he came down from his room to the living room. Geralt was standing by the wall with muscular arms cross. He was frowning at the television, something Jaskier had to explain to him shortly after they return because the man won’t stop fussing about him. Sure enough, the television caught the man’s attention. It both amused and scared Jaskier because for one thing, Geralt hadn’t tried getting near the tv, and two, it was clear it was the first time he had seen one.

In his mental state of today’s exhausting encounter, not to mention last night, Jaskier was ready to believe in anything miraculous—and one of them was someone called a Witcher.

Jaskier sat down with Geralt again, he paid little attention to the tv, but stared at the man. He found Geralt already watching him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” Jaskier managed a small smile. Geralt smiled albeit it didn’t linger long. Jaskier would have wanted to see more, it was too rare, may have been once in a blue moon and he was one of the lucky ones to have ever witnessed it. Realizing he was staring too much; he dropped his gaze to his own clasped hands and cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry. For everything.” Jaskier heaved a sigh, “I didn’t listen to you and me… It’s just too hard for me to swallow the idea of…”

‘Things you can’t see.”

Jaskier gave him a sharp look. “But I saw it now. With my own eyes… how you stopped the truck with your back… it was… it was…”

Geralt narrowed his eyes. “It’s what? Terrifying?”

“Amazing,” Jaskier breathed with eyes twinkling. Geralt’s face blanked out. “You didn’t even get injured…” Silence fell shortly as their eyes studied each other. Geralt looked normal, he looked like a Hollywood star to be exact, and appearance-wise he’s not late on trends. But he was more than his looks. Jaskier couldn’t help himself, he found his heart easing everything he looked at Geralt.

“You said you were cursed… how?”

Geralt gave him a scrutinizing look before he closed the distance between them and sat opposite him. Jaskier remembered how the same grim looked had people getting out of his way from the accident. He had one of those looks people find uncomfortable, and yet for Jaskier…

“So you are ready to listen and believe me?”

“Geralt, you practically threw yourself at me and got hit by that truck, survived unscathed, and carried me back here… If that doesn’t make me believe I don’t know what will.’

“Mm. You were unharmed. I did not smell your blood.”

Jaskier felt like there has to be something about Geralt being able to smell his blood but he put it aside.

“I don’t have an injury to show for it, it’s lucky for us the street cameras exploded that exact moment we were hit… or was that you as well? But thank you. You saved my life twice, even when I’m someone not worth saving. I’m… a nobody, okay? And out of nowhere this bizarre guy just won’t stop appearing when my life’s in danger and I… well, I am not a religious person, but ever since this? It’s only right to listen to my hero, besides, I already figured it had something to do with this?” he pushed the medallion in Geralt’s direction. “You are a Witcher, you said? What exactly is that?”

Geralt stared at the medallion but didn’t dare reach it. Jaskier let him in the silent reverie, his own energy drained from the very thought of escaping death twice. After a while, Geralt sighed deeply.

“We are no different than humans. I am once a human, but from where I came from, we lived with the beasts and monster kind. Being a Witcher is more of a job—we are beast hunters who underwent training to rid the world of predators. We develop strength and skills to hunt and kill them to earn our keep. That’s all there is.”

“And the curse? You said you were cursed by someone… Yen?” Jaskier wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw an evil smile crept at the corner of the Witcher’s lips.

“She is… complicated.”

“Ah…” Jaskier leaned back in the chair with a smirk. “What did you do? Stepped on her toe while dancing? Ended in another hoe’s hole?”

“Specifically, I tried to get in the way of her plans for her own well-being.”

“You mean you tried to get in the way of a woman?” Jaskier made a face when Geralt nodded, “Oh man, and you said you trained for beasts and monsters, but really nothing could ever prepare men for the feisty creatures that are women.”

Geralt hummed and dropped his gaze to the table. “I confronted her at a crossroad after fighting the dead men of Rotfiend. I heard she was involved with the Wraiths and… Yennifer is very powerful, if not the most gifted sorceress of her time. And she has an unattainable wish. My meddling only spurred her in her wrath. I told her I will not allow her to harm herself or exchange her life… promised her I will always find her, to save her, but she wouldn’t have it. She wouldn’t have me. So she cursed me inside my medallion. It is a magical object that can lead me to my hunt.” His voice rumbled a little lower, “I recall… it was a final goodbye on her spell. Safe to surmise she sent me to another dimension for good.”

Silence fell. Jaskier didn’t know the right words to say until it hit him. It was overflowing from the man’s features, the way his eyes are down, body forlorn.

“You love her.”

Geralt gave him a piercing look. “It’s a little more complicated than that. We cannot label it so simply. She and I… we’ve been crossing paths since the days of the dragons. I only wanted her to be happy.”

Jaskier whistled yet said nothing. For someone to know how to love others so unconditionally, he found himself changing his impression of the Witcher minute by minute.

“But she sent you here? How did I even manage to get you out? Because I’m sure I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Geralt’s pause was ominous. “You were injured. Your blood on the medallion sealed the pact. Usually, it's a magical deal between consenting parties, it's ancient magic that could only be cast by the strongest of mages or sorceress. But what Yennifer did to bind this contract, neither have the necessary elements of the consent of the parties.” He paused long enough for Jaskier to wonder if he was done talking, but then, "Blood Pact is a powerful enchantment. It seals contracts using blood, and could only be countered with blood. Breaking this pact would mean death for two parties... but she changed some parts of the spell, that's how--"

"Crazy she is!" Jaskier heard enough. “Okay, we sealed a blood pact--what does it mean for both of us!?"

“I am not certain of the properties of the contract, but there will be a tug between you and me. A connection of some sort, I would be able to tell if you are in danger, I felt so when I came here. I recognize the scent of your blood."

“Dude, that's seriously creepy, are you a vampire or something?” Jaskier panicked-- did Geralt smile? “Wait- if you can feel that I'm a danger, does it go the same way?"

“I can’t be certain. I'm sure you'll feel it, but between the two of us, I'm not exactly the damsel in distress."

" _Excuse me!?"_

"Time worked differently in that world, to me it seemed just a few hours or walking around a misty mountain… going in circles… and then the smell of blood around me. My thirst.”

Something changed in Geralt’s eyes when it locked with Jaskier’s. The effect was instantaneous, Jaskier felt his blood boil at the intense gaze and for a second, he thought it was a good idea to walk up to Geralt and sit on his lap, kiss the life out of him. It disappeared when Geralt looked away. Clasping his hand tightly, the Witcher shook his head.

“Damn witch.”

What does that mean? Jaskier swallowed his question. It was a strange sensation like an itch he wanted to scratch. His head was aching. There are still things he wanted to ask, "This situation is a mess-- but as long as you don't get any ideas of getting in my head or something, I'm sure we'll figure something out."

"Mmmm."

"What's with that low motivation? You do want to get back home, right?"

"That place is hardly a home."

"Okay... But you'd rather be there right?"

"I suppose."

"You have a funny way of showing eagerness, you're stuck someplace you don't know--"

"Part of our training is adapting to places, situation, Jaskier. You don't need to worry about me surviving this world. In fact, I rather think I have a better chance than you have."

Jaskier chuckled, was a little late to get the meaning and shot the Witcher an upset look. "How dare you!? Yes, that's right, feel your victory in teasing me, is that what they taught you in that prestigious school of yours?" but Geralt lowered his head and was even smiling that shocked Jaskier to the core. When he looked up, the intense gazing reached a new record and before he knew it, Jaskier was on his feet.

“I… we haven’t had breakfast…” he said lamely. Excusing himself, he stood up but was held fast in Geralt’s hand on his wrist. They gazed at each other, one sharp, the other uncertain.

“Do you always do feat like that?”

“What?” Jaskier was still confused.

“Jump to save other people even when you know you couldn’t save them.” His eyes gleamed as they both stood straight, “Even at the risk of your life?”

“I—” Jaskier’s mouth moved, but no words came out. He just wanted to pass out right there. “I couldn’t just ignore her.” He said blankly. Geralt stared at him for a long minute before letting go of his hand. Jaskier sighed in relief.

“You don’t need to worry about me, you’ve saved me enough—”

"Well, I am sturdier, far superior to you are."

"Are you calling me a wimp?"

“Jaskier.”

Jaskier found Geralt’s piercing eyes.

“You let me out of the curse… the blood curse she cast on me. Only a Blood Pact could’ve countered the spell. She doesn’t do things half-baked. She used my blood to draw the symbol and I remember nothing. All I recall are her last words…she gave me a clue how to find my way back and when we meet again, that’s when she’ll know my resolve is true. Blood curses have strong magical entailments, it can’t be cast without the enchantress dead.”

“But she lived?"

“She is Yennifer.”

“But what’s a blood pact?”

Geralt sighed. “From what I gathered from the bits of her incantation, she meant my offsprings to have the same fate in the medallion if they get in her way.”

“Wow, she’s very specific. You must’ve done her ba td,”

Geralt grimaced. Their attention was distracted when the monitor showed a hospital where the pregnant woman was brought.

“I hope she’s okay….” Jaskier said out loud.

“They will be.” The way he said it had Jaskier sneaking a look in his direction. He saw Geralt’s eyes softened at the sight of babies and Jaskier berated himself for doubting him. No evil person would have that look at the sight of the newborn. The commercial of food halted their thoughts as both their stomachs rumbled.

“Fine, I’ll just order breakfast and have it delivered. The coffees are a big no and I’m not going out that pedestrian again. You are free to stay here or go to your room while you wait… and... Merry holidays, Geralt…”

He left the Witcher still standing there and his thoughts jumped to the Witcher’s old flame. So it must really be a one-sided love. But what Geralt told him about this curse were too few and soon he was drowning with ideas to help his friend. He stayed in his room for the majority of the wait for the delivery. He was glad Geralt didn’t disturb him and Jaskier thought he fell asleep for a few minutes before there’s a call on his phone.

“Hello?” he answered with his head exploding. He wiped a hand on his face.

_“Is this Jaskier? Your order’s here, man, and I can’t deliver because your strange bodyguard wouldn’t let me in! I’ve got other deliveries!”_

Jaskier bolted up from his bed and jumped three stairs at a time to find Geralt standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the streets. His broad back framed the entire entrance like a boulder. Jaskier had to squeeze himself on the small aperture of his shoulder blade and the wall and nearly fell over the delivery guy.

“Move— hey,” he breathed, still groggy. “Sorry about that,” he took his cash while glaring at Geralt who glared back. The delivery man gave Geralt one final look of dislike, saw Geralt was still on him before he jumped to his scooter.

“What are you doing here?” Jaskier asked exasperatedly, “It’s snowing and you’re wearing one layer of clothing. What are you, a brute?”

Geralt sniffed the air, stared down the food Jaskier was held on the paper bag, then up at Jaskier, his eyes shining. Jaskier chuckled.

“Right, breakfast.” Setting everything up was easy and soon Jaskier was inquiring more about The Witcher. The vivid story and description of Geralt _of Rivia_ were too astonishing to believe without being there. It was worth of songs of the unsung hero.

“And you only get a few coins for a gigantic monster?” he asked incredulously, Geralt was practically a pest control.

“A coin would do, it’s a matter of getting enough to survive the day.” Said the Witcher quietly.

“Geralt, no offense, but you risk your life for other people, you trained for that! You’re a professional who deserved credits and more in his pockets! What’s with the humans in your world tossing you coins like you’re some beggar?”

Geralt stared at him as he drank his can of beer. Ever since Jaskier showed him how to open it, Geralt wouldn’t stop popping cans after cans, Jaskier feared he’d be out of stock soon. But with someone as interesting as this man who somehow ended under the same roof, he’s willing to pay for all the beer in the world.

“Witchers are frowned upon and feared by most humans, we are hybrids. Experiments. And yet they have acknowledged us and sought our aid in times of need. There’s no need for ill feelings, I do not give my expectations easily.”

Jaskier grunted and proceeded on butchering names of nasty humans being ungrateful until Geralt asked him about the bookstore which led to his grandfather and how he ran away from home at the age of sixteen.

“You defined your parents for freedom,” Geralt said with a nod of respect, “but tossing it aside carelessly, I’m beginning to think you’re not fit to live alone.”

“Stop rubbing it in,” Jaskier snatched the beer can and drained it in one go.

It was weird how everything fell on odd places in the building, Jaskier inviting Geralt to eat, talking about his way of living as a musician, the bookstore downstairs, his grandfather and

“You can rent the room upstairs,” Jaskier said that Christmas afternoon while he put on his thick socks in the middle of the living room. It was weird how the entire day, Geralt did nothing but stared down and scowl at him from breakfast to lunch like everything he was doing was wrong.

Jaskier couldn’t believe he was keeping the guy here, but for how long? That’s when it hit him— “There’s an extra room up there, you can pay me when you find a job. That is—you can’t exactly hunt monsters here, that’s the job of the police…. They’re like magistrates, well, they are modern magistrates here.”

“Mmm.”

“Don’t you get tired just standing there?”

“I’m not used to doing nothing.”

“Well, you’re breathing. That’s nothing.”

Geralt suddenly smiled wickedly that made the hair on Jaskier’s arms stand. “You’re not one to speak of self-preservation, Jaskier.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Are we talking about this again? God, won’t you let it go? So I rushed after another human being—I wasn’t the one who actually saved her—it’s you. And you—for some reason decided to save me, so what are you so what’s the fuss? I’m sure anyone would’ve done the same thing for a pregnant woman!”

“If memory served right, you’re the only one fool enough to jump recklessly there. Others were too… not you. You were the only, Jaskier.”

“Wrong.” It was Jaskier’s time to smirk, “You jumped right behind me. Who’s the bigger fool?” he harked a laugh at Geralt’s grim look. “Anyway, I’ll open a shop today, don’t get in the way, okay?”

“You mean the bookstore?”

Jaskier walked out of the living room, then stopped at the top of the stairs. Geralt was right behind him. He whirled around to face the Witcher.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I want to see the library of knowledge.”

“It’s a bookstore,” Jaskier said flatly.

“With knowledge.” Geralt replied shortly.

Jaskier bickered on his own with Geralt right behind him. It was giving him a funny feeling, something he didn’t have for a long while. He barely knew Geralt but something about his presence was making him feel safe and secure. Geralt for his part, didn’t seem the talkative type that explains why he did the things that he did. He’s simply built for action first and let people sort it out for themselves later. Right now, he was following Jaskier on own volition and Jaskier wondered if he should be flattered.

“Look—if this is your way of repaying me for letting you rent the room upstairs while we figure out how to return you back to your time—it’s really working.”

“You are not fitting the key in the hole correctly.” Geralt said.

Jaskier had been busy staring at Geralt’s too exotic face to even care, but blushed all the same when he was called out. He pushed the door open and turned the lights, explaining why his grandfather decided to have a bookstore in the middle of a very active city.

“He insisted on keeping people interested in literature. Said it was everyone’s responsibility to educate the next generation like he feared a day would come people would exist not knowing the ABC’s.”

“He was a very responsible adult.”

“He’s… scary.” Jaskier turned the heater to melt the icy glass window, then closed the shop’s door, putting the tag ‘Open’. And rounding on Geralt who was already halfway through the anatomy section. Shaking his head, he went around the counter to check on the sales and encoding of new books. From time to time he would look at Geralt and find him checking out other sections. He got distracted a lot with the sound of shuffling pages and Geralt running his fingers on the books as he walked on the aisle to the next.

It was still surreal how this man was a whole package beautiful, skilled, and really smart if he was to admit it. Frankly, that was a real turn-on for Jaskier. A man reading books, a man skilled in fighting... a man ready to protect him at all times. Jaskier's stomach fluttered when Geralt looked up and their gazes locked. He quickly looked away to hide the blush on his cheeks.

He also tried not to imagine Geralt kissing him on that aisle, he locked in his arms, pressing together, flushed and full of wanton. The feel of Geralt's lips on his own, the way he would hungrily chase his lips, the sounds Jaskier could make having Geralt pull him apart--

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that two customers had to clear their throat to get his attention. Jaskier blushed furiously when he realized he was hard and was glad the counter was there to conceal his sinful thoughts. He looked around, but Jaskier was nowhere to be found. Wondering where he went, he proceeded to checkout of the bought items of the customers, making sure to thank them for their patronage.

Jaskier had no qualms about keeping the bookshop, he knew how much his grandfather loved it and keeping it in business despite the late owner’s demise was something Jaskier considered to be a life fulfillment. He didn’t want to disappoint, the only person who ever believed in him after his parents disowned him.

It took a while to remember Geralt was even there until he felt someone standing behind him. It was the most inopportune time because he was scanning the barcode of a woman’s recipe book when her gaze jumped from him to something on his shoulder. The way her eyes widened in both fear and thunderstruck, Jaskier knew.

“Geralt. Step back a little, you’re gonna poke me with that stuff.” He said, pretending to ignore the Witcher who didn’t move back. The lady gave Jaskier a horrified stare before paying and taking her purchase. Smiling until she was out of the shop, Jaskier smacked Geralt on the shoulder—which of course was like hitting a wall of steel.

_“Ow!”_

“What are you doing?” Geralt grunted with a mild expression of amusement.

“Shut up, I should be asking you the same! What are you doing behind me—you’re not planning to do any dirty things to me, are you?”

“In the middle of this sacred hall?” Geralt asked quietly, “If you insist."

That shook Jaskier to the core “No—wait--- hold up— _are we talking about the same thing?”_

“I think we are.”

“Oh yeah?” Jaskier hated the way his voice trembled nervously, but Geralt barely flinched at the suggestive air. Jaskier hated it all, the building feelings, the silent admiration and above all, his understanding that this was all happening because he felt lonely. He was lonely. He sucked it up and looked away. It was not right—Geralt was a friend—

“That doesn’t matter for now—” Geralt was saying.

_That doesn’t matter—?_

“You have to see the basement.” Geralt advised out of nowhere. Something about his expression had Jaskier following him at once. He put a sign on the counter indicating ‘On break’ and then went with Jaskier to the back door leading to the stairs down to the underground.

What he found nearly had him on his knees. The archived books—the precious books of his grandfather were all scattered on the floor, cabinets and shelves dropped on the ground, pages flying everywhere—it was any book lover’s nightmare.

“What happened here…” he said with a shaky voice, taking one step at a time, breathing hard at the torn pages and destroyed paperbacks and spines and covers.

“I didn’t think someone like you who treasures his grandfather’s belongings would leave it like this.” Geralt said behind him. Jaskier stared around and bit his lip when he saw the warning on the doorway leading outside the back of the building. It read: _we’ll burn it next time you deny us the favor._

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice was controlled calm, he eyed the corners of the room sharply, nose sniffing around.

“Do you know who did this?”

Jaskier nodded silently. He wasn’t going to break down, not now. He put up a brave face.

“It’s alright… there’s nothing I… I owe them a lot.”

“There are still fucking monsters even in this reality, hmmm.” Geralt’s last words struck Jaskier the most. He slowly turned to him and smiled.

“They are no fun to hunt, Geralt. They are humans. They will eventually wither away; you don’t need to stain your hands with their blood. I’ll… clean up this place tomorrow… I just…”

He walked away in silence, Geralt helped him with closing the store. He told Geralt there is still food in the fridge and his room was next door, and then he locked himself in his room.

* * *

Jaskier wasn’t able to sleep well. He stayed in his room the entire night. He wanted to stay in the whole day too, but his bandmates just texted him. They landed another gig that evening and he figured he has to explain that to Geralt before he scared away the audience.

Thinking of Geralt, Jaskier pondered on meeting the Witcher.

Really, Geralt was a whole puzzle on his own. He hated to admit he was slowly harboring admiration for the guy. Who wouldn’t when the same guy saved him twice? He wondered if it was because of the blood pact, that’d really be bad. They haven’t figured out how to help Geralt back home yet too. The thought made Jaskier gloomier. Two days and he’s already bemoaning the future separation. But what kind of friend would he be if he got sad at the prospect of his friend being able to return home?

Opening his door, he stopped and knocked on Geralt’s room. Last night, he was certain he heard the Witcher pacing the outside of his door which was pretty sweet. He didn’t think someone battle scared and kills monsters could be so… attached easily. Not to mention, too sweet. Then again, Geralt grew up trying to save people, it’s only natural that he would protect life as easy as breathing. It wouldn’t be possible if, from the beginning, Geralt didn’t love the human race.

“Geralt?” he knocked on the door. He heard heavy footsteps and then Geralt was there wearing a familiar long-sleeved shirt and long pants that flat out reveal the contours, shape, and ample of his body. A flash of the naked Witcher has Jaskier mumble to himself—this was—this has to be a teasing dream—

“Y-you’re—you’re wearing my friend’s shit—I mean shirt—"

Geralt stared down his front and crossed his bulging biceps. Jaskier’s mouth watered. This was insane, he was getting a boner from a guy who—who was so handsome how could he exists on this plane?”

“I found this in the room. You mentioned someone used to occupy this place?” Geralt’s dark scrutinizing eyes were apt on Jaskier’s face.

“Y-yeah,” he breathed, “he’s… he’s a long-time friend and a very intimate… friend I somehow fell in love with…”

Geralt’s raised both eyebrows. “You have feelings for your… friend?”

Jaskier laughed nervously at Geralt’s low voice.

“A bit of one-sided love really—he was very nice to me and pushed me to follow my dreams, you know, rock band, said I had the voice and I was pretty, and he was always there for me, we’ve been friends for five years and miss him a lot…” he wasn’t going to cry—dammit.

Why was he spouting nonsense? He hoped really bad that this was a dream. He caught Geralt’s eyes who was staring at him with mild amusement, again.

“What? Are you judging me for pining too hard? Yeah, I always fall in love with the people who show me the tiniest bit of kindness, is that bad?”The Witcher didn’t answer but didn't pull his gaze from Jaskier either

“No. Loving other people… consider it a gift. Not everyone can admit to it.”

Jaskier was speechless. From the cloudy hall of his misery came a glimpse of hope coming once again from this person. And suddenly, Jaskier was very thankful Geralt decided to stay with him after all. He tried not to think of the unseen future and enjoy what he had today.

Until Geralt smirked and Jaskier's excitement dropped.

"But since you are Jaskier with countless stories of his many love affairs might as well believe love is handed freely."

"How the hell did you--!?"

"You roommate left a list inside the drawer, it wasn't closed so--"

"You!"

They spent the rest of the hour bickering, Jaskier ordered another delivery and asking Geralt to handle it this time. Jaskier asked what happened to the delivery guy when Geralt returned with the money still in his possession. The Witcher shrugged and said the delivery guy didn't ask. Half an hour later, someone buzzed downstairs while the two were finishing the box of pizza. Jaskier took the cash from the bowl near the door and headed downstairs without checking who it was. Sure enough, it was the delivery guy who craned his neck behind Jaskier, obviously in search of the mysterious beautiful man. Jaskier smirked and told him to scoot off, and then met Geralt halfway the stairs, the Witcher quietly following him. Neither asked what happened, they just let it.

But come dusk, Jaskier pulled Geralt into one of the cheaper stores with fine gentlemen's suits and spent half an hour watching Geralt change from different styles and tuxedos, which meant dealing with a very handsome Geralt many times over. Jaskier couldn't believe how beautiful he was rocking a final dark suit and tie that Jaskier approved.

“Geralt, just because you’re here as my actual bodyguard, doesn’t mean you can stand out and steal my show."

"Mmmm".Jaskier tried not to get distracted with his guardian's new appearance, but he would be a hypocrite to say he didn't enjoy the throw of glances on their way. It was going to be a good show.


	4. Of Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Witcher in disguise and a sprinkle of jealousy...or is it?

When they entered the club premises, a large building with mini windows that can hold at least two hundred people, Jaskier made a short introduction to his bandmates. Geralt was attracting a lot of attention as expected while he waited for Jaskier outside the makeup room, but what was more entertaining about it was nobody dared to approach him.

Everyone, even Jaskier’s favorite bouncers, who were all curious about his new friend won’t stop fussing about him.

“Where’d you get him? I want one—” Janet said in a whiny tone.

“Apparently, he’s a rare prototype,” Jaskier narrowed his eyes at her.

“You sly fox—you already have Travis!”

“I don’t, we’re—anyway, Geralt is only a friend.”

“The word friend is different in your vocabulary.”

Jaskier knew no one would believe he wasn’t getting fucked by his new handsome roommate anyway. They never believed he and Dune didn’t have secrets to keep.

It was the same as any other gig—the stage was for Jaskier and his bandmates. It’s a full house, packed in all corners with rock music drilling the eardrums of the intoxicated crowd. The sharp smell of alcohol is overpowering with sweat and perfumes and stagnant cigarettes all mixed in the billow of white smoke under the sparkling lights.

The live beat bringing the jostling crowd in another euphoric night with hands up in the air. Who’d blame them? It’s high time to be alive, feel alive, and be alive.

Jaskier killed the last note with the last headbang. He didn’t dare jump in the crowd—not when he could see Geralt there with a scowl on his face, arms crossed looking very unfriendly. Guy's gotta be a little friendlier, but really, Jaskier didn’t mind having him all to himself. He slipped off the stage to meet Geralt on the otherside though, found him gone from the spot where he last saw him and was lost in the crowd. He frowned, craning his neck to look around for his body protector as the stage get occupied by the next band and the crowd started cheering again.

Jaskier didn’t get far as he was pulled towards the bar with someone he didn’t even know. It was a complete stranger, dirty blonde hair, plain blue shirt, and looking wasted.

"Here's the man, " hiccuped thebtall guy with such a strong grip on his arms Jaskier couldn't escape. 

"Hey, hey..." he squirmed away from his touch. Talk about handsy fans.

“You were good,” he slurred, hooking his arm around his waist. Jaskier forced a grin and looked behind him for any sign of Geralt. When was the jealous boy when he needed one? 

Not that he was thinking of them romantically, but there's still the blood pact, right? Whatever the hell it means, Geralt was supposed to be beside him, right? It hit Jaskier how much he was counting on Geralt. 

That's odd. He's never needed anyone before. He was snapped out of turpor when the guy squeezed his hips. Exasperated at being pulled around, Jaskier elbowed him for some room. 

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"'Course you do! Well, I'm a fan so..." he hiccuoed again, his strong toxic scent making Jaskier wrinkle his nose. "You were... Made for the stage, huh?"

"Yeah..."

“How long have you been working here, love?” asks the red-faced guy with a flirty grin.

“If I tell you, are you gonna be ready to be arrested?” Jaskier answered briefly without looking at the middle-aged guy. How did he end up locked in a drunken man’s arms? And why was he waiting for Geralt to step in... he could handle this. 

“Why? I ain’t stealing books you own… You don’t look like a bookstore keeper with that getup,” went to the guy with a harsh laugh.

Jaskier froze. He peeled his eyes away from the crowd to fully get the man’s face which was red and bulging from his intake of alcohol, but all that aside—

“Uh… so you’ve seen my work in the store…?”

“I watch you every day, you can call me shadow, hehe…”

“Watch me…?”

“It was ordered from the top. You’re on the target list, such a shame, you’re such pretty face.”

It hit Jaskier. This guy was shadowing him— a stalker? No… no, this root to somewhere dark. He suddenly had a quick flash of his underground state and the fear he had to bury in because he knew who was behind the act. He never should’ve agreed with their terms from the beginning.

“Shame,” Jaskier tried to quell his panic, he didn't want to make a scene, “I… I thought my bodyguard would keep you out of my sight…”

“Bodyguard? We heard nothing about a bodyguard—” the drunken man turned so fast, hiccuping at the same time.

“Oh? You mean that foreign guy?”

Jaskier forced a smile. “Yes.”

“Well, we’ll kill him too. In fact, I’ll just take you with me and kill him so the boss stops worrying. You’re very pretty and so alone in the building. I think the boss is planning to do dirty things with you haha… that guy we sent to you the first time? Didn’t really like him so he disposed of him and now there’s me—"

Jaskier stopped breathing. He was on his feet before he could stop himself. Putting a safe distance from this guy was essential. Was he alone? Were there others with him? Why would someone like him say this… was Ranrif trying to scare him again?

More importantly—they sent that guy to him—the guy who nearly killed him--

“Where are you going—sit—you can’t escape us, Jaskier—” the man attempted to grab his hand but Jaskier snatched it away. He didn’t feel safe, nothing here was safe, the guy was right, he was alone—no one would save him from these people—

“Jaskier.”

Jaskier turned and bumped into Geralt who was standing behind him. One sight of the Witcher drained Jaskier’s energy and he bit his lips. Geralt who was ever his mind reader frowned and looked down the hem of his tux where Jaskier had unconsciously curled his fingers, tugging him, seeking help.

“What’s the matter?” Geralt’s focus was on him, but Jaskier shook his head. He couldn’t==

“Jaskier,” crooned the drunk stalker behind him. Geralt's arms wounded around Jaskier who was too late to notice that Geralt had pulled him close and dragged him to his other side, as far away from the drunk guy. Then the Witcher's nostrils flare, eyes searching the drunken guy with mounting hate. "You..."

“Who are you?” demanded the man, but it didn’t register to Jaskier, they sounded so far away. Why must he be targeted like this? The next thing Jaskier knew there was a loud crashing sound of something hitting a board hard. He looked around to find Geralt’s large hand holding the man’s head down the bar’s table—whom he apparently smashed right there—

Jaskier’s heart jumped to his throat.

“Geralt! _Stop!”_

Geralt didn’t answer. His eyes were darker than anything Jaskier had seen him, his incisors showing as he gritted his teeth in anger. Jaskier actually feared for the other man’s life so with all the strength he could muster, he dragged Geralt out of everyone’s view, letting the bouncers understand he was in a pickle and they took care of things in their hand while Jaskier dragged Geralt to the backstage.

“You don’t do that to normal people—”

“But I can.”

They disappeared backstage. That’s where Jaskier sees a familiar face. The club’s DJ—Travis bounced towards him, eyes automatically fell on Jaskier’s lips. Except Geralt stood towering between them, eyes burning.

“Fuck off.”

Jaskier’s whole body shivered. He'd never really seen Geralt around other people-- was this the Blood Pact too? Was Geralt jealous?

“Jaskier, babe” Travis repeats, looking confused and intimidated, staring from Geralt to Jaskier who didn’t know what to make of that.

“He-he's a friend, Geralt,” Jaskier licked his dried lips.

“Friend?” Travis’s eyes glinted playfully and he wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s waist. “Why hide us from your bodyguard? We’re more than that, Dandy baby, we’re practically married.”

“Hey, wait—stop joking, Travis—” Jaskier laughed nervously, but he was sure he heard a low growl from Geralt. It wasn’t only Geralt, something about him, about all this, felt wrong. He wasn’t comfortable being held by another man when a long time ago, he’d give anything to be embraced persistently like this. Something in him was heating up to a boiling point—when he glanced back at Geralt it was to see that he was unhappy.

“Stop alright? Why were you looking for me?” Jaskier felt Geralt’s eyes burn the way Travis’s gripped his arm a touch lingering and he’s already smiling when Jaskier started to pull first before they make things any more awkward except Travis didn’t let go.

“Yeah, I was calling you all day this Christmas, you weren’t answering my calls.”

Jaskier grimaces. How easy this guy could forget the circumstances they were at that time…

“I got busy.”

“Obviously.” Travis’s eyes flicker to Geralt.

Jaskier shook his head. He can feel his stomach flutter at the man’s undivided attention of the two hitting stones so he quickly stepped back from Travis.

“I have to go; we just finished the band’s number tonight.”

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Geralt glowered at the DJ like he could care less, "Step closer and you’re dead.’

Jaskier’s mouth dropped, “G-Geralt!” He glanced back at Travis, who had frozen on the spot.

He was about to rebuke the Witcher when he saw the familiar dangerous glint in the Witcher’s eyes. Geralt was thinking of smashing Travis’ face on the nearest wall—he was sure of it! So, he hastily pulled the Witcher back, bid Travis a short goodbye before he dragged Geralt out to the back of the building.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jaskier demanded, pushing Geralt to face him. “You know you need to blow off that steam somewhere!”

Geralt glared with jaw clenched. Jaskier waited for any explanation for this action with his heart beating fast. That was until Geralt grunted and started walking away. Jaskier’s face fell—then reddened. He was after Geralt in the next beat.

“Hey, what the hell? You know what? I don’t understand you! One minute you’re pulling me away from harm, now you leave me behind? Why can’t you make up your mind?”

“I can't. It's part of the curse.".

Jaskier felt hollow. This was what he was afraid of, "Oh, so you think I'm a curse? Well, Geralt, if you think I am a burden, say so! Don't give me excuses-

Geralt gritted, “It's not an excuse. If I feel compelled to protect you, it's because of the curse."

"So you're really calling the pact your curse."

"It is what it is."

“Oh, thank you for not glossing over that one! So every time you saved me is just a curse for you, really?" Jaskier didn't want to hear the answer to that. 

“Yes. You can't always rely on me to save you, Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s heart fell. With swiftness he did not expect from himself, he found himself facing the Witcher.

“Excuse me? Me? Rely on you? For your information I didn't ask for this curse! I didn't ask for you to always come to my aid! You’re practically the one throwing yourself at me every single time and you tell me it’s my fault!? You made me need you!"

Geralt shoved past him. “That’s not what I mean. Everyone hits on you because you’re an easy target.”

“Oh, now— _now you’re saying I’m a whore?”_

Annoyance played on Geralt's face. “I’m saying a little self-control will do you good.”’

They were both walking fast ahead of each other now.

“You are not my master, Geralt of Rivia! You should know better than to tell me what to do!”

“I wasn’t. You asked me for a reason why I am fuming, I gave you one.”

“Because you think I’m a whore?” he asked incredulously. "Right- you think every lover I have- what the fuck Geralt!"

“You shouldn’t leave yourself open all the time.” Geralt said casually. Jaskier made indignant noises that may have lost him a few female fans and achieve more from the male audience.

“Right, are you going to blame everything on me now? Oh wait, are we going to blame this in that damned blood pact? Because that's all I am to you right? Something that wouldn't kill you if we break it? That's why you never told me how to break it."

"I could've broken it if I wanted to," Geralt retorted. Jaskier felt like he was hit in the stomach. Truth be told, he and Geralt never had a proper sit down on this curse, he didn't even know what it entailed. But Geralt bluntly admitted knowing how to break it was the last straw.

"Then why not break it? Does it have something written about you being jealous?"

"Don't be ridiculous, if I am to fall for you, then indeed, it is the Blood Pact."

"Well, Blood Pact or not, are we going to die if we separate ways?" he asked heatedly.

Geralt didn’t answer. Jaskier stopped following him feeling like he was hit with cold water He watched until Geralt was out of view. Putting his hands on his waist, Jaskier swears loudly.

"Stupid Geralt," Jaskier muttered kicking the stone pavement and walking back to the club to get his guitar. His bandmates asked him to stay and drink with them, some asked about his hot bodyguard, but Jaskier only gave them small smiles and a wave. He watched the city disappear from the view on the cab, thinking of the reasons why Geralt—his rescuer for three times—would suddenly leave like that?

His thoughts wandered and wandered until he reached home and found it empty.

* * *

Geralt didn’t show up the next day, leaving Jaskier eating by himself again. It was strange how he got over Dune’s absence (which turned out to be a day or two before Geralt came around) but a day without Geralt felt wrong. He didn’t know where Geralt went nor did he have any means to get in touch with him. He knew he should’ve bought the man a cell phone, but the way they were out of time didn’t make it possible.

He paced in the living room the whole day, got fed up by afternoon, so he changed into his book store clothes, and opened the bookstore for the rest of the day. He felt guilty for leaving it alone for too long, plus the fact that the underground was still messy since his last visit added to his guilt. Taking the vacuum cleaner and broom, he wore a face mask and headed downstairs.

The light bulb helped him see the mess again and the sight made him grimace. It was the same as the last time saw it. Why anyone would bully him like this for not giving them time to get their packages, was insane. He tried to put off thinking of the people behind this, but this led him to think of his next avoided topic.

Jaskier bowed his head. It was all unfair. He didn't ask Geralt for anything. He was just lonely and he liked the grim man's brooding air, his protective gesture even if it was a result of their curse. 

But really, it was not Jaskier's fault. But why was he the one feeling an empty space in his heart? 

He was just stuffing the last ripped pages in the trash bag when a pencil rolled on the floor towards the tip of his toe. Jaskier stared hard at the pencil, his instincts to feel spiking up. Slowly, he looked up and found the alley of toppled shelves empty and dark.

“Is someone there?” he asked hesitantly. He scanned the room with his heart pummeling in his chest. He realized it was a very bad idea to go down here on his own considering the last time he did, he found the mess in such a state

“Alone again, I see.”

Jaskier whirled around and came face to face with the same drunk guy from the club. He was different looking this time, sober and clean, wearing a neat beige suit matched with a white necktie. But while the guy he met at the club was ill-mannered and rude, this one gave Jaskier a creepy feeling.

“What…” Jaskier mechanically stepped back, holding the broom tight. “How did you get here…?”

“The same way my men get any places they want.”

“Your men…?” Jaskier’s eyes rounded, “You… wait… you’re the one who keeps sending them here? You’re _Mousesack!?”_

“Well met, though my performance last night must've been worth it if you're making a face like that.” He made a short bow. Jaskier took the chance to step as far away from him, even put a table between them. The man’s gray eyes lingered on Jaskier who pulled up short and demanded

“Why?"

"To entertain me. Life has become dull. I wanted to chase someone like my prey and you looked so very endearing I couldn't help myself but want to eat you up."

Jaskier's eyebrows creased. He didn't exactly know the purpose of this visit, but he knew the reputation of this man and still owed him a large sum. Mousesack was the most dangerous man in the metro and he couldn’t believe he had the man in his underground.

“What are you doing here? I’m paying my dues, aren’t I?”

“Jaskier, you’re not listening—” he stepped close. Jaskier pointed the broom at his face.

“Make a move and you die!”

Mousesack smirked. “That really isn’t in your favor.”

Jaskier’s heart thundered. Mousesack had this nasty aura about him that was making Jaskier nauseous. Not to mention, those fearsome pair of grey orbs that spelled nothing but dominance.

“Why are you here?” he ignored the slight shake in his voice, “Are you here to collect? I only missed this month, there's no need for the great Mousesack to grace this place his presence, nor do you need to play your little costume games just to talk to me--"

“Indeed... but where's the fun in that? I had a great time chasing you around."

"Chasing...?" Jaskier's whole body turned cold. Mousesack beaming and from the corner of Jaskier's memory, he remembered the stalker that assaulted him, how he really didn't see his face clearly in the dark, how this man was suggesting the most ridiculous thing, and yet his feat last night was enough evidence for Jaskier to believe. This man was also his stalker that night. 

Fear rolled in his being. He wanted to run, but there was nowhere else to go. He clutched the broom tighter as Mousesack began sauntering in his direction.

"Why?" he asked with a dried throat. Gray eyes danced knowing the effect it was doing him.

"Business, my dear, you don't have any idea how it's been a pleasure hunting you around, I've never had such excitement. I've never been thrown to a garage container, see? Nor have I beat up so bad I had to have three stitches, Your friend was rather an inconvenience--"

"Are you for real" Jaskier hollered fiercely, "Why would you do those things, what's your damage!? You're destroying my life for what? A fucking spot on the street?!"

Mousesack's evil grin told Jaskier the answer and that's when he knew this man had destroyed many other lives before.

_"You fiend!"_

"You can call me anything you want, I still have the properties of your building with only the binding contract of letting you pay gradually, but I am a very impatient man, Jaskier. And business around this place is booming, I need this place--"

"So you send people to torment me-?"

"That and many other things. But then I got a glimpse of you...and I thought there are better, quicker ways to earn money if you know what I mean." Jaskier was stumped. Mousesack stepped up close.

“I’ll make you a proposal."

“Oh, don't even!“Jaskier hissed, “I am not going to be anyone's bitch! When I get out here the first thing I will do is go straight to the authorities and report your company--"

"What...?"

“This ‘underground’ is already under the radar of the police. One spill of beans and they’ll all catch every man to ever be seen around this place. Which includes you—”

“Me? I didn’t—”

“Oh, don’t be such a naïve. You know what we were transported here, you know everything, they all have your consent. We have your signature, remember?”

“What?” Jaskier fell back and hit the wall. He knew it, he knew those signatures of his on each package that arrived will be used against him someday. He felt helpless in the presence of true villainy.

"You're a pervy man,” Jaskier grumbled, “And hell will freeze over before I let you manipulate my way of living! I suggest you leave this house now before Geralt comes back-!"

An ominous gleam played in the bastard's eyes that Jaskier didn't like. "Ahh... Do you speak of your monstrous bodyguard? I know he's not here. I made sure of that."

For a second, Jaskier forgot how to breathe. He stared at Mousesack dumbly, taking the meaning of his words with fear rippling through his insides, shaking his heart.

"What... what do you mean? What did you do to Geralt?"

"I don't take well to people who meddle with my business, see." Mousesack settled in front of him, eyeing him full in the face, "Surprisingly, my henchmen couldn't find anything about him. He's a mysterious guy. Did you get him from the special forces?" he leaned closer much to Jaskier's discomfort. He could feel Mousesack's breathe on him, he smelt of cigarette and too strong masculine perfume. Hands clutched his hips, but Jaskier was frozen on the spot. He was sure Geralt was okay... but what did these men do to him? Did they lock him someplace? Torture him because of what happened in the bar? Was Geralt hurt because of him? So maybe there's some truth to Geralt blaming him that night... but Jaskier never remembered doing anything wrong except to exist. Was it such a wrong thing to try?

His eyes stung from the angry tears he held back. He wasn't going to cry in front of an abuser.

"When Geralt returns," Jaskier turned his head to one side when Mousesack's face drew closer in his space, "you're gonna regret this."

He couldn’t back out the wall when Mousesack inhaled his scent, it was sickening. The warmth of the next person was usually welcome to Jaskier, but this was nothing short of forcing someone—which Jaskier would never condone—

“There, there. You don’t need to look so scared, Jaskier,” Mousesack purred, “You know I can take care of you.” He cringed when Mousesack touched the tip of his chin and tilted it up, their gazes locking. "If you want I can keep you under my wing. Be mine and I'll let you keep everything, including this place. You love it very much so, do you not?"

Jaskier spat on Mousesack's face. Cold rage played on the villain's face and before Jaskier could say more, there was a resounding slap. Jaskier tasted his own blood and gave the man a glare. The glint of Mousesack's eyes was menacing. Like he wanted to do it again and again. Jaskier tried to squirm away from his touch, but it was futile.

"What are you being so stubborn about? You're not exactly in a position to say no?

"Over my dead body!” Jaskier finally pushed him back but he barely made the man step back. He tried to knock him over and over, but nothing happened, instead it just spurred the man to press on his space more. Breathing his cigarette fumes, Jaskier gritted his teeth and grabbed Mousesack's shoulders one last time. "Let me go!"

"Jaskier, there's no other way to do this, but give yourself up. You are popular, you have a voice, you can entertain plenty of people. You know how this world works, you've been in so many clubs, I'm sure you've heard stories... You have friends who do it for a living... with a beautiful face like yours, it'll be a ride, I promise."

And that's the gist of it. This man wanted to make a whore out of him.

"No one cares for you anyway," whispered this devil. Jaskier’s body shivered, but everything came crashing down all at once—his grandfather’s death, his debt to this loan shark, the business name written on those packages, the title of this building in the possession of this lusty man who seemed to really want Jaskier really bad… and he, Jaskier, who had been having a rough year. What was he to do?

He swallowed the lump in his throat and fought back the tears that sprung into his eyes. Mousesack wanted him so bad, it was terrifying. He could feel his hardness pressing so close against him, but Jaskier tried not to react. People like this-- maniacs like him thrill at the thought of their prey's reluctance so pressing his already bleeding lip, Jaskier pulled his head away in the attempt of a kiss. A growl came out of Mousack and Jaskier saw the nasty look envelop his eyes.

This wasn't happening...

“That’s right, surrender yourself to me completely, Jaskier.” Mousack crooned, grinding their hips and pulling him closer, watching Jaskier's every expression. The sensation startled Jaskier but when he looked up, he didn’t see Mousack’s sickening face.

He saw a Witcher with blades in his eyes giving the back of the loan shark’s head a very grave look. Jaskier gasped. Mousack turned and cursed upon seeing the Witcher. But Geralt was distracted easily when his eyes flickered to Jaskier. His eyes widened and the clash of emotions surfaced one after another from surprise to anger to complete contained rage. Something about what he saw made Jaskier hold his breath—instantly he knew someone was going to die.

“You hurt him...?" Geralt bowed his head.

"How are you alive?"

"You... Shouldn't worry about trivial details." Geralt grinned like the devil himself. Jaskier watched as Geralt’s hand landed on top of Mousack’s head who screamed at the first contact. Jaskier barely moved from where he was latched. He watched something glow from the Witcher's hands as he changed. The air buzzed and vibrated. Jaskier felt magic circulate in the room, making papers fly everywhere in a frenzy. The room got a little darker, a shadow cloaking the vicinity. Jaskier held his breath, eyes on Geralt.

There’s a snapping sound in the air and Mousack’s body shook once, rigid at some point and then remained still. Geralt tossed him none too gently on the other side of the room like he was a piece of paper. The eerie atmosphere faded, leaving them breathing with ease, light upon their heads. Jaskier dropped on his ass and breathed heavily. Geralt was watching him, his eyes gentle.

“Is he... dead?" Jaskier rasped, shutting his eyes close and putting hands in his hair.

“No. But he's worse than that. I wiped his memory.”

They stared at each other.

“Wiped…?” 

“Everything he knows and learned from the moment he was born, forgotten. I can't think of any cruller punishment,"

Jaskier nodded uncertainly, then shook his head too. Neither pulled their gazes from the other.

"Are you alright?" Geralt wanted to know.

He nodded again and licked his lips. He wasn't going to cry, he told himself. But the contained emotion of trying to understand what nearly happened again was making it hard to speak. "Um... I don't... I don't think that's cruel... You gave him a second chance."

"You're always so positive, I liked that about you." Geralt said smoothly that made Jaskier smile. If he wasn't too exhausted, he would be teasing the guy. It was over, this whole thing, he hoped. He wanted to ask Geralt what happened to him, but didn't have the chance when all of a sudden, he watched the gigantic form of Geralt dropping on the floor.

All the positiveness left Jaskier replaced by something hollow.


	5. Of Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt finally reveals the real curse and Jaskier makes his choice.
> 
> Warning: graphic smhut

It took Jaskier a second to undestand what just happened and then he was down with Geralt at once.

“Geralt? Geralt what’s the matter, Geralt…” Jaskier tried to clear his head, but when he saw blood oozing from the Witcher’s shoulder, all his forced calmness dissolved to nothingness.”

“No, no, Geralt? _Geralt!”_

Jaskier swore to god when he opened the door of the living room and half-dragged, half-carried Geralt inside. Panic surged through his veins as he put Geralt down the couch and checked his pulse. He found none. Spikes shot his stomachs painfully as he looked around for help. Geralt's head lolled to one side, lifeless, it made Jaskier cry before shaking Geralt gently. He needed to stop the bleeding was the first thought in his mind. He ran to the bathroom and grabbing all the towels. He pressed them to where the bleeding was intense before he started looking for his phone. Uncertain if he left it in the bookstore, remembering the bookstore was left unmanaged, and then there's Geralt half dead.

“Geralt… Geralt, pull yourself together… oh fuck… Geralt..."

Bloody fingers reached towards him. Geralt opened his eyes. Jaskier sighed and dropped his head on Geralt’s knees. “Fuck you, you’re alive… _fuck…”_

Geralt stroked his hair.

“I’ll be fine,” he breathed as Jaskier cupped his face and locked eyes with the Witcher. 

“Geralt? Geralt what’s the matter, Geralt…” Jaskier tried to clear his head, but when he saw blood oozing from the Witcher’s shoulder, all his forced calmness dissolved to nothingness.”

“No, no, Geralt? Geralt!”

Jaskier swore to god when he opened the door of the living room and half-dragged, half-carried Geralt inside. Panic surged through his veins as he put Geralt down the couch and checked his pulse. He found none. Spikes shot his stomachs painfully as he looked around for help. Geralt's head lolled to one side, lifeless— Jaskier cry. He shook Geralt’s shoulder. The blood flow won’t stop—Jaskier forced himself to calm down.

He ran to the bathroom and grabbing all the towels. He pressed them to where the bleeding was intense before he started looking for his phone. Uncertain if he left it in the bookstore, remembering the bookstore was left unmanaged, and then there's Geralt half dead.

“Geralt… Geralt, pull yourself together… oh fuck… Geralt..." flow of tears won’t stop and Jaskier feared the worst. “Don’t die on me, come on! You said you—you said you’re superior to the pathetic me, right? Come on, prove it, I dare you! You’re not gonna die, Geralt? You’re not as wimpy as me, please, please don’t die— _Geralt!”_

“Stop crying,” Geralt groaned as he sat up slowly with great effort, leaving Jaskier, “You’re such a pain in the ass,”

“I know—I know alright! Now just hold still, you’re still bleeding,” Jaskier sniffed as he helped Geralt to sit straight. Tears wouldn’t still stop and bloody fingers reached towards his cheeks. Jaskier gritted his teeth and dropped his head on Geralt’s knees. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Mmm, I’ll be fine,” he breathed as Jaskier wiped his cheeks to find Jaskier watching him fondly. “What do I do with you? Tears suit you well too.”

“Don’t be a perv,” Jaskier snapped, “What happened to you? Did Mousesack’s men really get you? Did they do that to you? Do you wish now that you’re mugged Did you get mugged by monsters?” Jaskier began tugging on Geralt’s coat and unbutton his white shirt. Wherever the necktie landed, it was probably shredded in pieces.

“I dealt with them,”

“Them? Who’s them? Can you remove your shirt?”

Geralt glared at him and refused to budge.

“Yes, Geralt, because that scary face works for me. Move your bum, or do I have to witch-handle you?” Jaskier elbowed him with a scowl on his face.

With a little more persuasion, Geralt finally conceded albeit reluctantly. He hooked the hem on the back of his shirt and pulled up in one tug swiftly. Jaskier was left completely in awe at the toned body carved in perfect lines, but he did his best to appear unaffected. He’d seen it before, there was nothing left to leave for the imagination. Geralt straightened, chest out with eyes watching Jaskier. The attention was making his lips dry, and yet there are things far more important than the intense attraction of wanting to fuck each other’s brains out.

Geralt’s wounds, for instance.

“Oh,” Jaskier’s eyes widened. Geralt’s wounds have healed. The Witcher knew, of course, but he still let Jaskier fuss about like an idiot. Why was a monster hunter so considerate?

“Uh… I guess you don’t need this, huh?” he pulled the towel back, thinking of soaking it quickly so the blood won’t ruin it. Frustration sat in his stomach as he stood up. All of this happened to Geralt because of him, there was no excuse. The Witcher was right to blame him,

“Jaskier.” Geralt touched his wrist. Jaskier startled and let him pull him back. Geralt stared at him kindly like he knew what he was thinking. The way Geralt read him thoroughly was unfair. “Are you alright?”

“Of course, I’m fine. I’m just going to get the towels—”

“What I said last night, they weren’t true.” Geralt started, a deep voice resonating in Jaskier’s soul, “I saw them follow us, the man? Mousesack? I knew he was behind everything happening around you. It only made sense, they wanted something from you.”

“They wanted… something.” Jaskier didn’t get to the details. 

Geralt pulled him next to the couch, face somber, “I felt your fear. I understood the man’s yearning for you.”

“Well, I am irresistible.” Jaskier faked a smile, but Geralt wouldn’t have it. He grasped Jaskier’s shoulder and squeeze tight. It was warm and comforting.

“I do not know who he is, nor do I understand the kind of mortal power he possessed nor his influence, but judging from the scale of his control over the things happening around you, I knew he was a villain. The lingering scent that wouldn’t go away, it made me wary.”

“What do you mean scent?”

“The scent of the stalker mixed with your blood, Jaskier. I could never forget that. I found it again in the bookstore basement, I knew it was the same man. And then at the club… that man…”

“You knew it was him!?” Jaskier breathed out.

“I made a point of letting him know we were separating ways. But I wanted to kill him there. That man who greeted us after him—your friend? He reeked of Mousesack’s scent too… I realized he was really closing in around you. I knew I had to move to catch my prey, it was a typical hunt. After we fought at the back of the building, some of his men followed me. I let them take me to their headquarters. They told me I could never protect you, they gave hints of strong evidence against you so I destroyed everything in there. You have nothing to fear anymore.”

Jaskier was lost for words. That one thing holding him back, that one thing he thought was unfixable was handled by none other than Geralt. Again. He didn’t deserve him.

“Oh, Geralt…”

Geralt reached for his cheek, a smile upon his lips, “You never really asked about the Blood Pact.” It was a statement that surprised Jaskier.

“Why are you bringing it up now?”

“Because you deserved to know that truth. I will tell you about Yennifer’s curse… It’s a blood curse, that’s what I call it, only because she wanted to test me, Jaskier. I told her I would do anything to save her, and she put the last test on this wish with that curse by dragging along an innocent person from another world.”

Jaskier listened aptly, Geralt’s tone heavy and sad.

“I understood the spell she cast as a sacrifice. If I am willing to sacrifice another life just to achieve my own wish, it didn’t have to be you, Jaskier, anyone would do. But the spell isn’t about a binding contract of agreement. It’s a curse that was meant for me to...”

“To what?”

Geralt paused. Their eyes met. “To thirst for your blood.”

Jaskier mechanically covered his neck point with his palm, eyes wide.

“Are you saying you’re a real vampire?”

“No, but she cursed me to want you—your very being. We, Witcher, have very little control over intimacy and the longing for physical touch. The moment my eyes fell on you, I wanted to make you mine.”

Jaskier stared, “Are you serious? You’ve got a funny way of showing that!”

Geralt chuckled and stared into his eyes, “You truly are… different. I was forcing myself to fight off the curse… but every day was agony, and you didn’t make it easy with your thoughts. I could sense them.”

Jaskier pressed his lips.

“Jaskier, when you invited me to your house, it was there that I planned my move against you. I do not question how you understood the significance and danger of the Blood Pact, but it’s truly disconcerting how you brushed it aside and left me with it when it so concerned your life.”

“Care to explain that part?”

“Sacrificing the blood of the one who freed me will eventually lead me back home. It’s that easy.”

“Wow…” Jaskier whistled. Geralt nodded and grunted. “She’s an evil witch.”

“Her tests are never to be underestimated. Killing someone I would grow to like, the parallel of that with her, she’s truly crafty.”

“You mean crappy?” Jaskier shook his head, “What’s with people around making my life hell?”

“I apologize for dragging you in this and putting your life in danger.”

Jaskier shook his head. “Geralt, you realize you’re the one who’s been saving me most of the time?”

“But your life was in constant danger whenever I’m around.”

“Really? Because I never felt that threat directed at me at all.” At Geralt’s self-deprecating expression, he added, “Look, I did feel you weren’t telling me something but you know… It’s not that I didn’t care about it? But because I trusted you. Turned out I was right; I usually am because you know what? The one thing I never wanted to doubt again is myself. So when I made up my mind to trust you, things just fall in pieces.”

The gaze Geralt gave him was like someone who received the stars.

“But Geralt,” Jaskier said, “You said you liked me, right? Are you telling me it’s the Blood Pact too?” The Witcher blinked slowly with lips pressed.

“I was too busy fighting down my impulse to take you… I never lingered on affection, and yet whenever you were in danger, I find myself caring. It’s safe to say I have saved many people in my life, killed some too… but when it came to you, my blood boils at the thought of you getting hurt.”

Jaskier nodded sadly.

“It’s the Blood Pact then because I felt the same.”

Geralt’s eyes twinkled. “You felt the same?”

“Yeah, well…” It was hard to know which is real and unreal, all Jaskier knew, for now, was that he wanted to have this lonely Witcher too who had endured days of self-control to save him. How could he leave his hero like that?

Licking his lips, Jaskier intentionally drew closer to the Witcher. Geralt saw what he was doing and put a steady hand on his shoulder.

“Jaskier…”

“Don’t think of me as someone fragile that would crumble at the truth if knowing what is between us is merely a spell.” Jaskier said firmly, shaking the Witcher’s touch, “Blood pact or not at this very moment I’m taking things in my hands, you understand?”

“Jaskier…” Geralt swallowed hard. It was the first time Jaskier saw him so uncertain, so Jaskier showed him how serious he was when he drew even closer.

“You won’t hurt me, Geralt.” He dug the heels of his palm on the Witcher’s thick legs.

_Unless you come to terms with how much Yennifer really means to you… before that, I’ll embrace this._

“Blood pact or not, I’d never kill you.” Geralt’s eyes fell on his lips one more time.

Jaskier breathed. He couldn’t answer. He would be a fool to believe it is because Geralt was, well, Geralt, a man of conviction who believed things are under his control. The only person who could actually tell them was none other than Yennifer. He wondered if he would meet her someday.

Well, that was if Geralt chooses to kill him than kiss him. Someday.

“You’re being ridiculous if you think there’s nothing to you I wouldn’t like.”

“I’m hungry.” Geralt’s eyes dimmed. Jaskier sucked air. A touch on his chin, lifting up and there staring at each other. Jaskier stops breathing. Golden eyes pierced him. Jaskier’s body was set on flames the way the Witcher was watching him.

“O-okay,” Jaskier’s face turned hot., “Now you’re speaking nonsense—what did you say you wanted?"

“You,” Geralt says and Jaskier nearly chokes on his own saliva. Geralt stares him deep in the eyes like he, Jaskier’ hung the stars up the sky. Jaskier finds his heart skipping every beat. Geralt was staring down at his lips hungrily.

“Y-you mean…”

“Feed me now, I care not for everything else. You can have me.”

Jaskier snorts, but seeing no humor in those eyes, he wets his lips and pulls his chin away, heart beating in his chest.

Geralt touched Jaskier’s bottom lip and he gasps. He forgot how his lips had been split. But he’s more nervous the way Geralt draws in like there’s no other way but towards him.

“Hungry.” He growled as he leans in, eyeing Jaskier’s lips. Pressure built into his body when he got far too close with only his palm stopping Geralt from taking what he obviously wanted. Obviously, Jaskier wanted him to.

 _Pact or not…_ he reminded himself.

Geralt’s hand on his chin slid down delicately Jaskier’s throat, the swallows he made revealing his anxiety until the large callous hands stopped in the middle of his collarbone where it tugs on his necklace.

“This is mine,” Geralt says, pulling it with Jaskier next, “Now feed me.”

“I don’t-”

Jaskier forgot everything else when Geralt plants a kiss so hot on his mouth, he can only hold on to Geralt’s shoulder for support. It doesn’t start slow—fuck no. Geralt wants to own his mouth as he pushes his tongue deep between the seams of Jaskier’s lips, their tongues meeting and dancing as they kiss with moans enough to get Jaskier to turn on. He’s making out with a complete stranger—but stranger things have happened before.

Until Geralt pulled back, making Jaskier gasp for air and protest. Frowning at the man, he sees Geralt show him the mark of the wounds. They were gone.

“What the hell…” he blinked touching Geralt’s elbow. The wound, the blood, the ripped skin— not even a scar. He stares up at Geralt whose gleams. Questions upon questions hit him, but they don’t matter when the larger man wraps thick hands on his groin and slid calloused hands around his cheeks, pulls him, and sucks the life of him with a kiss.

Jaskier’s confusion disappeared in the hot kiss. He groaned. All around him things turn into a hazy blur when Geralt slowly pushes him on the couch, roughly kissing his jaw, his neck, his large hands pinning his shoulders down. Thick thigh presses on his legs and Jaskier moans in shock. His voice turns into a moan on Geralt’s lips and questions pop out one after another again—except its different questions like why not the bed, why so quick, and why he is intolerably attracted to him. He didn't question it further when Geralt started grinding their hips, large hand sliding down his loose pants, easily pushing it down to grab his cock.

Geralt's lips were hot and heavy against Jaskier’s skin and when he begins suckling on Jaskier’s perking nipples, Jaskier gave a sharp dirty cry and he felt Geralt smiled on his skin. Kissing his right bud, his finger thumbs Jaskier’s left, easily earning a gracious moan from the singer’s body. It doesn't matter! Nothing matters because the guy’s making him forget the worst night of his life.

They make it dirty, Jaskier usually knows how to tease yet right now he’s on the receiving end of getting turned on because there’s a big man on top of him, slowly taking him apart with hands running around his soft, sensitive body. Mouth stays on his chest, Jaskier hugs Geralt’s head, his hips thrusting up to that friction. Geralt drops his body heavy, trapping his lower waist and grinding on him hard.

“Fuck, you’re—” he gasps, feeling the length of Geralt’s groin press down his bare stomach.

“Mmmm,” Geralt murmurs, lips trailing down Jaskier’s middle, thumbs rubbing his hard nipples. Jaskier wants him to stay there, but something more important requires attention inside his tight pants. It doesn’t do to grind, he wants more. Geralt seemingly able to read his mind again snuck his palm down his pants and unbuttons his pants with a pop. Jaskier shuts his eyes when Geralt palms the head of his cock, then he frees it and starts stroking him wildly. It’s not gentle, it’s pure rough, edging Jaskier who’s already really hard.

“Don’t pull too hard, don’t be a brute!” he hisses when Geralt tugs his cock, balls stretching. Geralt smirks—or at least that’s what Jaskier thinks he saw before shutting his eyes again when the oaf jerks him from the root of his shaft up to the head, squeezing tight

“You’re too damn erotic,” Geralt whispers on his ear, nibbling and biting his lobe and licking the side of his neck. Like a dog—no, a wolf. “Your cock is like porcelain… your whole body is like a pearl… I shouldn’t let you leave my side without fucking your brains out.”

Jaskier cries, both hands shooting down to stop Geralt’s hand from making him come. His body’s already ready to explode and he wants to really get that release, but this—this is still insane.

“I’m getting dizzy, stop…” Jaskier whimpered when Geralt took control of his cock again, stroking him to abandon until he feels the boiling pit erupt and explode his hot release, wiping everything in his memory.

Jaskier breathed hard, but his open and Geralt kisses his lips, tongue exploring the insides of his lips, hot and possessive. He catches Jaskier’s tongue and moved his own to drive deeper. His hands roam around to the most sensitive part of Jaskier who shut his eyes close and moaned to Geatl's touch. It’s too much stimulation.

“Enough…”

“Mmmm… we’re just getting started. Geralt sits up and pulls Jaskier’s pants. Shit, Jaskier feels him move under him, then Geralt grips his arms and pulls him up into a sitting position. Jaskier bites his lips, his moan unintentional because fuck—the guy can manhandle him like a doll and that’s sending crazy stuff in his head. He gets on Geralt’s lap, straddling him with both knees on either side of Geralt’s thigh. Then they are facing each other.

Jaskier’s face burned in embarrassment, but the moment he looked away, Geralt draws his chin back and plants a swift kiss on his lips. Jaskier leaning hard in response says more about his willingness to continue with his hands sliding down Geralt’s bare chest, feeling all the bumps of hard muscle and scar until his fingers ghost the line of his pants. Moaning into the kiss, Jaskier frowns because he can’t find any fly. He palmed Geralt’s hard length. Geralt helps him to it. Shifting his ass up like Jaskier’s weight means nothing at all, he pushes his slacks down his knees and sits back. Jaskier blinks because that’s no cock…. That’s Geronimo cock, so big it’s not ten inches…

“You're... big,” he gulps, body heating up at the lust in Geralt's eyes, "I don't think I can-"

"You can take me."

Geralt snatched a hand at the back of his head and they kiss rough and sensual like they did this for a long time. Jaskier doesn’t hesitate to feel that monster cock in his palms, the wonder of wonders in heaven how that would fit in because shit, this guy doesn’t seem agreeable to touch alone, no, they’re gonna fuck and it’s going to hurt and going to feel so good. He tried to pry his soft cock from Geralt after having his first orgasm, but the guy seems eager to see him undone again. He grinds their cock together inside his palm, Jaskier’s body trembles and he falls on Geralt’s shoulder, feeling all the light flicking in his head, his body like a living wire ready to short circuit.

Geralt suddenly grabs both his ass to drag him forward. Jaskier gasps at the finger caressing his hole before it sinks in. He jolts forward because even that finger is big. What insanity is this…

Geralt laps his neck, the other hand holding Jaskier’s cock while he stretches him. Then he growls.

“It’s cold inside… and pasty.”

“I’m prepared, okay?” he blushes furiously at the frown. “I’m… I’m already ready… just let’s get protection.”

Geralt grunted and sinks in two fingers. Jaskier cries and knocks his forehead on Geralt.

“I said don’t be a brute!”

“I’m larger than life,” Geralt said a little conceited, looking down Jaskier’s body and to the pink head of Jaskier’s cock, “Your body is too small to receive me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Jaskier melts at the concern. “You won’t cause I’m ready okay? Just… just do it already… protection…”

“What protection?” Geralt didn't even blink when he wrapped large hands around Jaskier’s waist and lifts him up. Jaskier sucks air, the blunt head of Geralt’s big cock pressing in his entrance. He bit his lips when it slides away because damn, Jaskier didn’t think his hole’s too small for it. But he won’t let Geralt without protection-"

“You know we need—you don’t even know if I’m safe—”

“What are you talking about?”

“What aren’t you? I’m safe—what about you?”

“You’re safe with me,” Geralt grumbles in his throat, holds Jaskier in the air, and slid inside him with a pop. Jaskier sees the burst of stars, the pain at the stretch, the slow intrusion of something so big penetrating his aching hole. Geralt wraps him in his arm and guided him slowly, stretching his insides painfully, he gasps. Geralt is fucking big, taking too much space. Geralt exhales beautifully, muttering about his tight ass before he bottoms out. He holds Jaskier too close with a gripping tightness, then he starts moving.

“Wait,” he sobbed and Geralt stayed still.

Jaskier’s head is empty. All he can feel his pain and the bulge pulsating inside his body. The length is unbelievable, the size expansive. It dulls his ass, the feeling in his thighs getting pierced this way, but after the pain comes the good feeling. He drops his head on Geralt’s shoulder and breathes heavily before sighing and nodding his head.

Geralt who can’t seem to contain himself thrust forward hard. He growls in Jaskier’s ear as he slowly pulled and thrust inside him again. Jaskier lost it when Geralt fucks him in earnest. There’s a moment Jaskier thought he passed out only to wake up with the wall-shaking, his body quaking and the burn inside him brings out pleasure it makes his eyes roll back. He knows they’re both close, Jaskier pumps his own cock but Geralt swats his hand away to jerk him again. Geralt certainly knows what he is doing as he pounds hard inside Jaskier and when he hit Jaskier’s magic spot, he fucked him in his orgasm, Jaskier cried out and made filthy sounds as Geralt pounded his ass until he too was coming inside him, filling him with his hot seed. Jaskier dropped down Geralt's chest, both heaving and breathing hard.

He cursed, feeling the man’s hot release inside him drip down when Geraltmoved to kiss the top of his head. Jaskier couldn't even move to clean up and they both lay their dirty and savoring the afterglow until Jaskier finally passed out. 

When he woke up, he’s on his bed and he's not alone. The room was too dark—Jaskier grunted, then tucked in the blankets to reach for the lampshade only to realize there’s a large arm holding his shoulder, someone hugging him from behind.

Jaskier sighed. It was perfect for the beginning of the year.

_Blood pact or Not..._

* * *

**_2 months later..._ **

Jaskier answered the knock on the door. He wasn't expecting anyone today. He left Geralt in the shower and was drying his hair when the knock on the living room got his attention. Wondering who it was early that morning, Jaskier went to answer it to find Travis standing outside with a huge grin.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Jask, can we talk?"

“Umm, today's not really a good time, Travis," he said, exactly as Geralt came out of the bathroom, huffing and shuffling his already messy hair wondering who on earth would bother them this early.

“See um—”

“Who’s out there?” Jaskier shut his eyes as Geraltstepped behind him, fully naked too. The way Travis’ eyes look up with wide eyes down to Geralt's junk had Jaskier growling. "That’s why you can't, it’s occupied, right? See you in the club, Trav,” he shut the door quickly and sighed. He crossed his arms as he leaned on the door, giving Geralt a nasty smirk.

"You wanted him to see that."

"He's been pestering you. He doesn't seem to get the message no matter how much we make out in your every gig."

"Yeah, well, I was his hobby a long time ago."

Geralt growled. Jaskier enjoyed it too when the Witcher was a little possessive. The way his body shone right in front of him like a teasing god. He lost track of his thoughts when a hard body presses behind him, pressing him back the door.

“Oh, shit, Geralt, not now,” he asked innocently. Geralt kissed him, hot and sweet, large hands slipping inside Jaskier's shirt. He flipped Jaskier and pressed his hard length on his ass. Breathless, Jaskier moaned and pressed back, feeling the large staff on his ass crack that turned him on. It was insane how they easily aroused each other whether Jaskier was swallowing Geralt down or the other way, they both wanted it so bad. Something about Geralt is lulling him to just let go and let it be, a kind of frenzy his body could not refuse. His kisses were like venom, getting Jaskier hot and wishing for more. Geralt pressed hard on him, thigh grinding his half-hard cock until Geralt lifts him up to his waist. Jaskier wrapped his legs around Geralt and they kiss while Geralt presses him at the back of the door.

_Blood Pact or not._

Jaskier hoped Travis was still outside to hear his dirty moans. He opened his mouth for Geralt to explore, let Geralt do what he wanted, the Witcher's finger rubbing his hole again, Jit wasn't the first time unexpected sex happened between them, Geralt pulling him in and fucking him on the door, on the cabinet, on the floor, the bed. Jaskier could remember every time his ass sting. Even the stretch from a few hours ago wasn't enough to prepare for Geralt of Rivian. He’s so big and it’s crazy but Jaskier loves being fucked by him. He bit Geralt's earlobes as the witcher worked his ass. Jaskier was getting impatient but it seemed Geralt was on a task to make him beg for it.

"Damn it, Geralt!"

"What do you want? Tell me, Jaskier..." he whispered in his ear.

"Take me, fuck me, you asshole."

"As you wish."

Geralt pounded him on the door, Jaskier can only hold on, his legs spreading as he got a jolt, again and again, his tears of pleasure getting lost in Geralt’s skillful lips, a kiss. Geralt loves thrusting into him, he does when he chases his own orgasm, Jaskier squeezing him tight, smiling when Geralt groaned and grabbed his sides roughly. Someone was jealous.

“I have work, you brute, Just because you’re good at fucking, doesn’t mean we call can live to it.”

“What work? You’re made for me.”

“Shut up. It’s bad enough I have dirty dreams about you.”

“Oh?” Geralt’s smile was meaningful. “ _Why.. what kind of dreams do you have?”_

“You have no idea,” Jaskier tells him.

“Mmmm.”

Jaskier never told him his real dreams. How it started. How Geralt was always standing before him, eyes red with a large sword at hand, and a woman standing behind him. He had an idea who it was, but there was no reason to tell Geralt who had been trying to live in this world. He glanced up to catch Geralt smiling at him.

“Why do you look so smug? What have you been thinking about?”

Golden eyes look at Jaskier. “Fucking you.”

“Then come here, you big… very big guy..” Jaskier smiles feeling so ridiculously happy when Geralt enters, it took him a moment to finally get a grip of the situation. Locking the door, he inhales a lungful of air, turns around to face Geralt not knowing where to start when his heart is all over the place.

Except Geralt knows how it should begin, had always known from the beginning when he grabs hold of Jaskier’s shoulder and shoves him at the back of the door, kissing the life out of him.

Jaskier moans, every cell in his body in a riot. He gets his hands all over Geralt, pushing and shoving his clothes until Geralt pulls for a second just to get rid of his shirt. Jaskier sighs when Geralt’s lips capture his mouth in a sloppy kiss, their bodies pressing hard, hands working fast on their belts and zippers, their clothes discarded.

When he received a miscall from his friend, that night, Jaskier lazily discarded the phone on the floor and tucks his face comfortably on the crook of Geralt’s neck, Geralt pulling him closer against his body and they fall asleep locked in each other’s arms, Geralt seemingly able to finally fall asleep in his arms. When Geralt woke up, there was no need for foreplay. Jaskier was hard just being near him, he's always hard around Geralt which made his suspicion grow... _Blood pact or not..._

In the middle of the night, Jaskier stayed awake. Geralt loved spooning him after rigorous sex, not caring for any aftercare because the Witcher is a brute like that. He let Geralt embrace him from behind, the feel of his breathing music to Jaskier's ears. They stayed silent for a moment, breathing in synchrony until Geralt's lips began kissing his shoulder blades again. Jaskier smiled and drew himself closer.

"You're thinking..." Geralt stared more than asked in his deep voice.

Jaskier opened his eyes and stared into the dark. He let a beat resound, sucking air when Geralt's hand slid down his stomach and stayed there with the tip of his finger brushing down the hair leading down his soft cock. Jaskier liked this warmth. He liked everything they have except-

"You ever feel like... We're just playing around?"

Geralt stopped. Jaskier waited for him, he'll wait for Geralt to stand beside him to face that reality.

"We're not."

"You sound convinced..."

"Jaskier," Geralt pulled him closer, not a line between their bodies now. The Witcher wrapped an arm around Jaskier's collarbone while Jaskier reached to his arms for support, "You said you're ready for us... You said you'd never doubt what we have. I follow you."

"Yes, but staying together like this... Geralt... I think..." he stopped. He could not tell him anything so intimate, so deep when their connection was questionable. Not when Jaskier was falling in love. "It's nothing."

"Mmm..." Geralt kissed his nape, "Go to sleep. Let me help you." saying so he took hold of Jaskier's cock and jacked him off till Jaskier is trembling and moaning, body arching at the touch. Geralt pressed a thumb on the head of his dripping cock and spread his cum to his hardness. Jaskier loved Geralt's touch, he loved everything the Witcher did to him and what he was planning to do- the thoughts of Geralt had him fucking in his hand and came with one last draw of breath, his orgasm too shocking and electrifying. Geralt bit his shoulder blade and grind his cock behind Jaskier's crack. He seemed satisfied with that, but his sticky hands never left Jaskier's softening cock. Jaskier who was too exhausted but managed to turn behind him to kiss Geralt's lips.

_Blood pact or not...but was it really love?_

* * *

He was screaming when he woke up, perspiration running down his neck. He breathed hard and clutched on the blankets. The room was dark, but he recognized it, realized he had a nightmare yet again, and hoped that his screams didn't wake Geralt. He turned to the other side of the bed but found it empty. Jaskier looked around and sucked in some air.

Geralt was sitting on the chair set by the window. He was watching Jaskier like a hawk, eyes gleaming. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" he wanted to know. Jaskier dropped his gaze. "I didn't... I thought they were random dreams, Geralt..."

"Mmm... You've been like that for a month now."

Jaskier stared. "You knew?"

"I always watch you. What do you dream about?"

"It's... Just you hold a sword on my neck and a very beautiful brunette woman..." he saw the Witcher's eyes gleam. "Is it her?"

"It's her."

Silence fell in the room. Jaskier let it. He wanted Geralt to say it first. He let him have his time, they've both been mutually thinking about it too, of what dealing with the breaking of the pact would mean for them. It was the reason Geralt spent most of his time doing research. Jaskier knew he was progressive. Especially now that Geralt's the one managing the bookstore while Jaskier does his night gig, but he would always return to his man's embrace.

"Jaskier, we have to meet her,"

Jaskier didn't look away. "I know."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

Geralt had no answer to it, but he did stand up and took Jaskier in his arms. He rubbed his back and kissed the top of his head. He led Jaskier back to their bed and wrapped strong arms around him. Jaskier buried his face on the crook of his neck and breathed his warmth. They both let silence reign, let it wrap them in the soothing presence of each other, yet both are aware the other was still awake.

Then suddenly, it occurred to him.

"Do you have the same dreams too?"

Geralt took a lungful of air. "Yes."

"Why is she doing this to, Geralt?

Geralt breathed on his forehead, his grip on Jaskier tightening. "Don't worry about it..."

"Does she want you back...?" Jaskier pulled his head to have a good look at his lover. From the dim light, he could see the painted uncertainty on the Witcher's face. It reflected his heart. 

"Geralt..."

"I'll find a way to keep her from harming you."

"Well, I don't want her hearing you too! We've talked about this, you didn't spend all those months researching from internet archives for nothing. If it's just blood, I will give it. If it would stop these nightmares..." he crawled closer to him, voice trembling, "I don't break easy, Geralt... But we need to face it. We've both been running away from it. What happens when she breaks the pact herself? If she wants you back?"

Geralt snorted. "She doesn't."

"Then why meddle now? Geralt- you have to admit it... this whole thing is scaring you too!

"Mmm..."

"Don't give me that mmm trick, we have to talk about it. What would she gain by appearing now?"

"My annoyance."

"Geralt."

"Because in the end, she still gets what she wants. Distract me."

"She thinks I'm not distracting you enough?"

"I don't know..."

"Maybe she thinks it's time to wake you from this orgy dream?" Jaskier said lightly that earned him a peck on the lips.

"Sleep, Jaskier. No matter what happens, we won't run away anymore... Are you sure you want this?"

"Anything that'll make me stop..."

"Then we'll make it stop, trust me."

* * *

Had Jaskier known that a month later, Geralt would come up with a safe way to counter the spell that only required a little amount of his blood and then saying goodbye to Geralt, he wouldn't have insisted on this plant. With Geralt's knowledge and a few aids of self-acclaimed witches under pseudonyms on the internet, he bound a spell that would transport him to the place he came from prior to the medallion's prison world. The Witcher promised that he would settle the score with the sorcerers, whatever that meant, and went as far as saying he will return to him. That's what was between them was more than a blood pact, more than a curse.

"And if you didn't?" Jaskier blurted out before he could stop himself.

Geralt who had joined him for coffee that morning when all had been prepared for the ritual in the now-empty underground gave him a wry smile. "You've learned not to put your expectations on others?"

"I've learned to manage it, didn't mean I didn't expect... so..."

"I will return, Jaskier. I will return to you and prove what we have is not because of a spell."

Geralt disappeared with the medallion and never returned.

When the Witcher began the ritual with ingredients including Meir ivy, dried roots, and their blood. Now Jaskier didn't even have the thing that brought him the Witcher. He was just gone and the only thing he was left to do was wait and trust that Geralt would be true to his words.

That he'll come back. 

Jaskier sang to every club, the name of the Dandelions well-known around the city. They made guest appearances at the music center and was even named outstanding new performers of the month. Still, Geralt never showed up. Not 6 months later, not for a year. Jaskier hated Geralt. He cursed his name, threw bottles around and despaired, yet the only solid thing to ever bring him back was music. So he sang his heart out. Wrote music sheet after sheet and sang them on bars, sometimes on his own, sometimes with the band. He got hit on multiple times, but Jaskier, who wanted to prove to himself that he was never controlled by the Blood Pact and was very loyal to Geralt, declined offers. That's how he stayed true to his love even if it made him look like a fool. 

That Christmas he was alone. His bandmates were with their families and special people, they didn't schedule any gig since the twentieth and Jaskier's been feeling alone.. He saw Travis's Axe ad on the billboard and was happy his old friend had found success in this profession. Travis still called him from time to time, but Jaskier barely entertained suitors. He's been waiting for a year for his return and last night was their anniversary. Except he never came back.

He had just finished his eggnog when out of the blue, a knock came. Jaskier may have walked a little too fast to answer it. He had been anticipating something like this to happen, but to his disappointment, it was only a small package from an admirer. He's been receiving plenty of secret gifts from fans after his 3 minutes of fame for being broadcast live on a breakfast show with his bandmates. He 

He took the parcel and clambered back to the living room, dropping on the couch and sitting cross-legged as he ripped it open like a five-year-old. A box was inside with a piece of paper that fell on the floor. Jaskier took the paper first and unfolded it. He didn't think the letters were still a thing, but they are sweet and vital evidence for affection.

Then his eyes widened. He was holding the property document of the entire building with his name on it and the signature of his grandfather. Jaskier's hand shook. How did this get here and who...?

His eyes fell on the small wooden box instead. He flicked it open and choked on what he found inside.

It was the medallion.

He turned when he felt someone else's presence. There was Geralt standing on his doorway, bold and broad, as handsome as ever with silver hair tied behind him. He looked the same. Jaskier swallowed, his eyes swimming with tears. He promised himself he wouldn't cry. Said he would make sure things were clear with them this time and by that he meant if Geralt still loved him. Just to know if it was really the blood pact. Seeing Geralt now missing him after so long, Jaskier realized he really adored the man.

There were plenty of questions he wanted to ask, plenty of things he wanted to say, but above all, as Jaskier threw his body on Geralt's frame, he pulled back from kissing him and told him—

"You're back..."

"I'm back..."

Jaskier nodded but didn't move. He satisfied himself with checking Geralt's appearance. He was wearing a late grey cloak covering his entire body. He looked like he traveled many places, yet Jaskier could only concern himself that he was alive. Still, he didn't dre approach him. He knew Geralt's resolution to return to his world was to appease both their choices... that means the Blood Pact had to be lifted if they really wanted to move on.

Geralt returned. Jaskier knew the Blood Pact was no longer in effect. Yet, Geralt is here...

"I'm sorry I took longer... I had to do a favor for Yenn... Time traveling to a different dimension had always been her expertise, but it was never a hundred percent success. I did not want to come back empty-handed."

"I don't care about all that, I'm glad you're here. I missed you, Geralt you stupid Witcher!".

"And I... you, I worried about you a lot, I kept thinking about how you'd survive this world being the ways you are always looking for trouble. At some point, Yen wanted to curse me again."

"Yen? You're on speaking terms again."

Geralt nodded. "She came to understand what I value the most..." and the way he looked at Jaskier was enough to counter any gifts from the stars. "I returned _for_ you." 

Jaskier nodded with tears in his eyes. It was the only thing he needed to hear. All those times he thought he'd never see Geralt again. He could live with it if only he knew the spell was effective, knew that Geralt was safe. What if he didn't make it back a year ago? The spell was a shot in the dark. It was a spell What if Geralt lost his way?

_What if he was dead?_

He took a step toward Geralt, the box of the medallion still in his hand.

"It wasn't the Blood pact?" he asked.

 _"No,"_ Geralt nodded, "It _was never the blood pact._ Desires are one thing... what we have is another. The Blood Pact only intensified our lust but Jaskier, our feelings are real."

Jaskier jumped in Geralt's arms and he was received with the same gusto, Geralt pulling him higher and murmuring adoration in his ears. Geralt missed him, loved him even. It was the best gift in the world that he wasn't ready to let go.

"Welcome back," Jaskier whispered, leaning to kiss Geralt heatedly and all is lost in the touch. Geralt quickly covered his mouth with his own, wrapped Jaskier in his arms, hooked his legs and carried him to his waist. Jaskier didn't care. He wrapped his legs around Geralt's waist, their mouths not leaving each other, making breathing impossible. They move clumsily, Geralt walking to the bedroom while Jaskier pulled their clothes and discard them on the floor. It was the same intensity when they made love, the same heated exchange and feelings. Jaskier should never have doubted Geralt, he never will.

And that night after tiring their bodies out, drenched in sweat and full of each other, Geralt whispered in his ear that made Jaskier smile.

"Me too, Geralt, me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading ^^ Geralt and Jaskier will return to us soon <3


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